


you never wanted the nice boys, anyway

by IzzyAguecheek



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: (nothing explicit and no worse than canon), Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Kissing, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Sharing a Bed, except when it does, fake dating au, i've been told this qualifies as a slow burn but I refuse to believe that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28265892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IzzyAguecheek/pseuds/IzzyAguecheek
Summary: When Gansey had texted the number on the “fake boyfriend” ad, Adam Parrish hadn’t been exactly what he expected to get.(or: the one in which Gansey needs a fake boyfriend to annoy his parents over Christmas, and Adam is a boyfriend-for-hire. Shenanigans ensue. They fall in love.)
Relationships: Adansey - Relationship, Richard Gansey III/Adam Parrish
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	1. you can call me “babe” for the weekend, ‘tis the damn season

**Author's Note:**

> I actually started writing this on December 25th, 2019, after a brief discussion with my sister about how everyone thinks Ronan would be a good fake bf but Adam would be the one to actually do it for money. Plus Adam is A Lying Bitch and most definitely a Slytherin so he would be great at it lmao it took me literally a year to finish it, but here we are at last! Special thanks to my sister for quite literally holding me at gunpoint and forcing me to finish this, and then being my beta while screaming at my narrative choices. 
> 
> This was supposed to be a oneshot, but it got away from me, so... Chapter updates daily until December 26th, unless I have trouble updating, since I've got the whole thing written already. I'm not American so if this isn't how American families celebrate Christmas, don't @ me, okay, I did my best!
> 
> Fic title taken from "Yule Shoot Your Eye Out", by Fall Out Boy, a.k.a. the ultimate Christmas jam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title taken, obviosuly, from Taylor Swift's "'tis the damn season" which came out EXACTLY when I needed it to.

When Gansey had texted the number on the “fake boyfriend” ad, Adam Parrish  hadn’t been exactly what he  expected to get.

They had agreed to meet at a coffee shop uptown, and Gansey, having arrived too early, as usual, had spent the past thirty minutes freaking out. Maybe this was a bad idea – hell, it was  _probably_ a bad idea, how would they even  _do_ this, maybe he should just turn around and leave and text the guy an apology, and deal with his grandma asking him about his “girlfriends” and with his mom trying to set him up with every single  senator’s daughter  she knew for the rest of his life. 

He hadn’t left, though, and instead, he eyed every guy that walked through the door carefully, wondering which one was his soon-to-be fake lover. The ad had specifically mentioned experience pretending to be a bad boy and annoying the hell out of parents, so he was expecting someone intimidating in looks, maybe with a leather jacket and a bunch of tattoos, riding a motorcycle. Or maybe someone plain, with no noticeable personality or outstanding features, who could change personalities easily. That wouldn’t be too uncommon in Henrietta, Virginia. 

A few guys with both these traits walked in and Gansey’s heart raced, but none of them seemed interested in him. When someone did walk his way, he looked nothing like Gansey had pictured. On one hand, he was just a boy in a Coca-Cola shirt and a worn-out jacket that seemed too thin to be of any help in the cold. He looked very tired, his dusty brown hair was rather unremarkable, and he walked with his shoulders hunched, like he was trying to curl into himself or like he was carrying something heavy on his back.

On the other hand, he was  _gorgeous._ Icy blue eyes that examined the room carefully before lasering in on Gansey, and an uncommon bone structure that made his face look odd, but beautiful, like an alternative magazine model. When he stopped in front of Gansey’s table and asked something, Gansey’s brain had already stopped working, so it took him a moment to catch up and answer.

“Oh, yeah, it’s me. I’m Gansey” He wondered if he should stand up and give him a handshake or something, like they were business partners or high school friends. It sounded stupid in his mind, so he just gestured for the boy to sit. “Adam, was it?”

Adam sat down across from Gansey, looking far more at ease than Gansey felt. He pulled out a notebook and a pen from the small messenger bag he’d been carrying, then set both on the table, as if he was getting ready to take notes on a very important class.

“Yeah. Adam Parrish.” He offered Gansey a small smile, and Gansey’s heart did a weird tumbling thing. “Sorry I’m late, my watch is broken. Is Gansey your first name? It sounds a bit odd.”

Internally, Gansey sighed.

“No. I’m Richard. The Third.”

He watched the recognition on Adam’s face with a mix of disappointment and concern. Most young people didn’t know the rich and well-renowned Gansey family, and usually they didn’t make the connection, but Adam seemed to get it immediately. He didn’t comment on it, though, much to Gansey’s relief. He just nodded slowly to himself and opened the notebook on a blank page.

“No middle name?”

“Hm, Campbell?”

“Alright” He wrote something down and gave Gansey a weirdly apologetic look. “Boyfriends are supposed to know these things, so I gotta ask. So I take it you’d like someone to accompany you on the 25th?”

Gansey nodded, feeling weirdly wrong discussing this. Like he was hiring a sex worker or something, which didn’t make sense. Or maybe it did. Could Adam be considered an escort? What were the requirements for that?

_Just answer the questions, Gansey. Stop being a creep._

“Yeah, to my parents’ house. It’s, hm, in D.C. You could drive up with me.” He cleaned his throat. “It’s technically on the 24th, though. I usually spend the night of the 24th there, so I can be there on Christmas morning, and then I have to stay for lunch, and, well. We’d have to, hm, spend the night. Two nights, actually. And I’d drive you home later on the 26th.”

Adam seemed to consider the suggestion carefully, his expression serious and distant like he was solving a math equation. Finally, he nodded.

“I can do D.C.”, he decided. Then, after a brief pause, he added, giving Gansey a wary look: “Just so you know, someone _will_ know where I am. I’m gonna need your parents’ address, and your license plate. That’s a deal-breaker.”

“Of course” Gansey blinked, surprised, although he really shouldn’t be, and trying not to be offended. Adam didn’t know him. It couldn’t be anything personal; the guy was just trying to be safe.

“And I don’t do anything sexual”, Adam continued, his tone growing sterner. He held Gansey’s gaze, eyes determined and hard. He looked about Gansey’s age, so in his early 20s, but there was something about him that gave off the feeling he’d already been through a lot. “I’m not a prostitute. You’re not paying for sex, or for my body, or anything like that. I do have my limits.”

Gansey felt himself blush.

“I know that”, he said, and he couldn’t help but sound a bit wounded. “I wasn’t going to… I _know_ that. I would _never-”_

“I’m not saying you would”, Adam said, and he seemed to be amused by Gansey’s embarrassment. “It’s a common misunderstanding. And we’re gonna be spending the night together. _In your room._ So I just thought I should clarify. Nothing personal.”

Gansey stared at him, mortified. He hadn’t even thought about that part.

“You can sleep on my bed”, he blurted out. “I’ll take the couch. I’ll tell my parents we had an argument over the last slice of the Christmas pudding or something.”

He realized how  _weird_ he sounded right after the words left his mouth, but they made Adam laugh, so it was completely worth it. Adam’s laughter was as gorgeous as the rest of him, and his smile was as bright as the Christmas lights hanging from the ceiling. It wasn’t like the contained, polite smile from before. This time, it was a  _real_ smile, and Gansey immediately wanted to see it again, even if it meant embarrassing himself over and over. 

“Well, that’s reassuring”, Adam said, like it was no big deal, but Gansey noticed his hunched shoulders relaxing a little. “It’s gonna cost you more, though. For the overnight work.”

He sure as hell didn’t mean to make it into an innuendo, but, despite everything they had just discussed, Gansey’s mind went  _places_ when it heard the words “overnight work”. God, he needed to get a grip.

_Questions, Gansey. Focus on the questions._

He nodded, agreeing to the extra price, because it made sense and because it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford it. Adam relaxed a bit more and clicked his pen.

“Okay, now that the technical part is over, tell me about you.”

The question wasn’t what Gansey was expecting at all, and Adam seemed to realize it, judging by how the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement.

“Your boyfriend would know about you, right?” He explained. “The minimum, at least, even if it’s a new relationship.” He smiled encouragingly, back to small and contained, but satisfying to watch nonetheless. “So, think of this as our first date. Tell me about you.”

The comparison made Gansey’s blush intensify, even if he knew he was being stupid. He told Adam the basics – where he’d gone to high school, where he was from, what was he studying (nothing, as he was currently taking a gap year), what did his parents do for a living, what other relatives would be at the Christmas dinner, how was Gansey’s relationship with all of them. It felt awkward, at first, to talk about himself in general terms, and the fact that Adam was taking careful note of everything only made it weirder. But Adam was a good listener, and Gansey found it was easy to talk to him, even if the conversation was basically one-sided; soon they’d moved on to Gansey’s personal interests, his weird obsessions with history and dead Welsh kings and his insomnia.

Eventually, the subject of why Gansey had contacted Adam surfaced, and Gansey was a bit embarrassed to admit it had been because of an impulse. His sister had been pestering him about getting a girlfriend “or a boyfriend, Dick, come on, we all know you’re one of  _those_ people”, and he’d told her he had a boyfriend just so she would lay off of him. Helen Gansey, of course, was terrible at keeping her little brother’s secrets, so she’d told the entire family about it half an hour later during dinner, over the sound of Gansey yelling at her to shut up.

Their politely shocked reaction had made Gansey’s skin itch in a rather unpleasant way. He knew they weren’t really  _okay_ with it, not because they were particularly against gay people – Ganseys, in general, were rarely invested enough in mundane questions to be  _against_ or  _for_ things –, but because they worried about what it would look like to others. Gansey loved his parents, he really did. He  _didn’t_ love Mr. and Ms. Gansey, old money symbols, American bourgeoisie, Republican politicians.

The whole “hire a fake boyfriend to piss them off” thing had been his friend Ronan’s idea. Gansey had begged Ronan to do it for him – he would be perfect, with his shaved head and tattoo and pet raven –, but Ronan didn’t wanna miss out on Christmas with his family, which was understandable. Besides, the Ganseys knew Ronan, and they… They didn’t  _like_ him, exactly, but they tolerated him stoically, which was too good to work in this situation. Hence, the ad. Hence, this very polite boy sitting in front of him. Gansey couldn’t imagine him ever being rude to his elders or purposefully annoying adults. He was just so  _nice._ More on the “adequate and proper” side of nice than the “friendly and charming” one, but still. 

The story didn’t seem to surprise Adam, and, when Gansey pointed that out, he just shrugged.

“That’s what it usually is, with guys: homophobic parents and its variants. So, you want me to piss them off?”

“I guess.” Gansey rubbed the back of his neck. Something was bothering him. “Aren’t you gonna tell me anything about you? I mean, a boyfriend would know about you, right?”

For a second, Adam’s expression hardened with something akin to sadness, but soon he was back to his politely interested façade.

“You’re not dating me _me,_ remember?” His smile now seemed forced. “I’m whoever you want me to be.”

_Be my friend,_ Gansey almost said, but he stopped before he could make an even bigger fool of himself. Instead, he said:

“Oh. Right. Of course.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll work on our story and all”, Adam promised, like that was what was bothering Gansey, and not the feeling of guilt that came from the realization he was only using someone for his own benefit. “But first, I need to know what kind of boyfriend would annoy your parents the most. Are you thinking classic bad boy, with leather jacket and all? ‘Cause, like, I know I don’t have any tattoos or anything, but I’m pretty sure I can pull it off.”

Gansey didn’t say anything, since he was busy imagining Adam in a leather jacket and tattoos and – well, dressed like Ronan, basically, which made him realize that it wouldn’t have such a big impact on his parents. It  _certainly_ wouldn’t have as much of an impact on them as it had on him.

“I have a friend that’s kinda like that”, he said. “I think my parents are used to it by now?”

He didn’t mean for it to sound like a question, but Adam didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t seem worried about this new information either.

“That’s okay. We can think of something else.”

“This is so weird”, Gansey said, then immediately wished he hadn’t. Adam gave him a curious look.

“Sorry?”

Well, now Gansey just had to roll with it, he supposed.

“I-I mean. Doesn’t it feel weird to you? Letting me pick a personality for you like I’m picking an outfit?”

Adam blinked, confused.

“I’m just doing my job, Gansey. Don’t worry about it.” He looked away for a moment. “I’m used to it by now.”

That seemed to be his attitude towards a lot of things, but it didn’t make Gansey feel any better. He still wanted to know more about  _Adam Parrish,_ not whatever character they were about to create for him. He wanted to ask why Adam did what he did, and if he didn’t mind not spending Christmas with his family, and if he ever hung out with his clients after his job was done. But, judging from his reaction earlier, he didn’t think any of these questions would be well received, and he didn’t want to see pushy or make Adam uncomfortable; so he just nodded.

“Okay. I’m, hm, open to any ideas you might have. About annoying my parents, I mean. I really don’t… I don’t even know where to start.”

Adam eyed him carefully, from head to toe, taking in his beige sweater and perfect hair.

“Obscenely rich Virginian couple, right?” He leaned back on his chair, and Gansey got the distinct feeling Adam was having fun with the whole deal. “I definitely have some ideas.”

***

The drive to D.C. was as awkward as Gansey had expected it to be. 

Adam insisted that Gansey picked him up in front of the same café from before, rather than at home. When Gansey pulled over, he was sitting on the sidewalk by a backpack, hugging his knees and trembling in the cold, his hair all mussed from the winter wind. He was wearing jeans so old they had wholes on the knees and patches with different types of fabrics all over them, a plaid button up and the same jacket from their first meeting, now covered in  buttons and pins with band logos on them. On his feet, he was wearing boots, the same kind Gansey had seen farmers just outside of town wearing. 

All in all, it was a terrible outfit choice, both because none of the clothes matched and because they were all old and falling apart, but Adam still looked good on them, which Gansey considered very unfair. He got up when Gansey stopped in front of him, his mouth dropping open to the sight of the bright orange Camaro he was driving.

“I shouldn’t be surprised this is your car”, he said. “But I am.”

Usually, Gansey liked when people had strong reactions to his car. Today, though, he was so jittery and nervous that he couldn’t think of a good answer; instead, he said:

“Good morning, Adam.”

Adam smiled. He looked even more tired than before.

“Right, that. Good morning, Gansey.”

“Sorry to make you wait. I hope you haven’t been sitting out here for long.”

Adam raised one hand to rub his eye with the heel of it, shaking his head dismissively.

“I was early, I think”, he said, distractedly. “Like I said yesterday, my watch is broken.”

He refused to let Gansey help him with his backpack.

That was their only vaguely normal interaction of the morning. Soon enough they were hitting the road in the most awkward silence Gansey could ever remember being immersed in. He prayed his car wouldn’t break down before they got to his parents’ house. The last thing he needed was another minute to regret his life decisions.

They didn’t talk during the drive, except for when Adam would ask Gansey a question about something he’d written down on his notebook. He seemed to have become an expert on Gansey’s entire existence, but Gansey was still worried. What if his family somehow found out they weren’t  _really_ dating? He couldn’t bear to even think of the look on Helen’s face – if someone noticed, it would be her; it was always her – if he had to explained he actually hired someone to pretend to be his boyfriend. He would much rather die than have this conversation.

When they finally parked outside of Gansey’s parents enormous house, they both took a moment to take a deep breath. Adam turned to Gansey and nodded.

“Ready?”

_Oh God,_ Gansey thought. He said:

“Yeah.”

Then he got out of the car and rang the doorbell before he had the time to convince himself to turn around and flee.


	2. the gifts you'll receive from me will be one awkward silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Eve!! Finally!! Hope everyone is safe and having a good time.  
> I had a lot of fun writing this one! (And it took all of my common sense not to accidentally make Adam sound like a cowboy from Texas in this lol) Also, chapters just get increasignly longer from here on lmao  
> Chapter title taken, once again, from Fall Out Boy's "Yule Shoot Your Eye Out".

In the end, Gansey had worried over nothing. It soon became clear Adam had done this before and was very good at his job, both the acting and the annoying parents part. He shouldn’t be surprised, since Adam had sounded so sure of himself before, but he was. And a bit scared, if he was being honest. Adam’s ability to act like someone else entirely were a little frightening.

His posture changed to something a little looser a second before Mrs. Gansey opened the door and pulled Gansey into an enthusiastic hug. He barely waited until they were apart to pull Gansey’s mom closer for a bear hug, exclaiming excitedly about how he was glad to finally meet her, leaving Mrs. Gansey confused and messing up her perfect hairdo. She looked so dazed when Adam let go of her that Gansey had to hold back a laugh.

“Why, it’s great to meet you too, ah…” She gave him a head-to-toe look, then looked at Gansey, who just then realized he hadn’t mentioned his alleged boyfriend’s name before. He opened his mouth to answer, but Adam was faster:

“It’s Adam, ma’am. Adam Parrish” He leaned his head. “It’s really a pleasure to meet you. Gansey has told me a lot about all of you.”

There was something different about the way he was talking now, and it took Gansey a moment to realize Adam now had a very thick Virginia country accent. Mrs. Gansey seemed to notice that, too; her lips pursed slightly before her usual well-rehearsed smile returned.

“Well, come on in, then. I’ll call someone to help you with the bags.”

“ It’s fine, mom”, Gansey said. “We didn’t bring that much stuff.”

Gansey and Adam followed her into the huge house. Adam was looking around in wonder, like he’d never been anywhere like that before, but Gansey couldn’t tell if that was still part of his character or not. Mrs. Gansey turned around to look at them and for a second her discomfort visible in the thin lines around her eyes and in the angle of her eyebrows, before she smiled again.

“Boys, don’t forget to leave your shoes at the door”, she told them, gesturing vaguely to the floor near the doorway. “We’ll get you proper slippers in a second.”

That was unusual; Gansey had lived with his parents for 18 years and not once had he been told to take off his shoes before going inside. It only took him a moment and a good look at the doorway to realize why that had changed. Adam had only taken a few steps inside, but the usually pristine white tiles where he had stepped were now stained with dark brown mud from his hideous boots. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, ma’am” Adam exclaimed, although the look he sent Gansey said he wasn’t sorry at all. Gansey had to suppress a smile.

“It’s alright, dear”, Mrs. Gansey replied, in a tone that said nothing was alright. “As long as you take them off now.”

They went inside the house only in their socks. Mrs. Gansey led them to Gansey’s childhood bedroom first, where they put down their bags. Gansey tried not to feel self conscious as Adam looked around. He had never hung posters or pictures on his bedroom walls like most teenagers did;  instead, his walls were covered with maps of the US, of Whales, of Brazil, of the state of Virginia – pretty much everywhere he’d ever been to or intended on visiting at some point. The maps, in turn, were covered with annotations in Gansey’s elegant handwriting, about ley lines and touristic points and random knowledge Gansey had acquired about those places during his history and magic obsessed teenage years. Most of that knowledge had come from the same books lining up the shelves. Adam couldn’t see that, but they were also covered with notes and highlighted passages.

He remembered Ronan’s snicker the first time he’d been there, at the beginning of their friendship, years ago.  _You’re a giant nerd, Gansey,_ Ronan had told him. Gansey supposed it was true. He wondered if Adam was thinking the same. There was no way of telling from his expression, but, either way, he didn’t linger on the decoration for too long before turning back to Mrs. Gansey and gesturing for her to lead them back for the rest of the tour.

Before going back to the hallway, Adam stood next to Gansey for a second before slowly reaching out to grab his hand, giving Gansey enough time to back away if he wanted to. They had discussed this previously, the whole PDA thing, and agreed to do  _some_ of it. Before arriving, Gansey had told Adam to put his hands in Gansey’s back pockets or something a little more scandalous than hand-holding, but he was quickly losing his bravado and gaining back his anxiousness, and Adam seemed to have picked up on that, for which Gansey was grateful. He accepted the hand, ignoring the little electrical shock the touch sent through him, and they followed Mrs. Gansey out of the room.

Gansey knew his parents’ house inside and out, yet somehow he felt like he was seeing it all for the first time through Adam’s eyes. This time, he could guess what was going through Adam’s head: he was probably wondering how someone that had been raised in a place like that could have any problems. Gansey didn’t know Adam’s background, but that was usually what people thought about. He couldn’t say he blamed them. Gansey was well aware of his privileges, and he was also well aware of how the rich parents that came with it could be a nuisance sometimes.

Speaking of which. Mrs. Gansey kept droning on while their walk, in a casually polite tone that other people reserved only for guests, but that Gansey had grew up hearing being used to address him:

“You’re here earlier than I expected” They were passing a room adjacent to the living room, that was mainly used for drinking tea during business meetings. There were comfortable chairs scattered in a circle and several small tables lined with delicate glass figures and decorative plates on top of them, thanks to Helen Gansey’s great eye for interior design. “I have to say, Dick, I was a little blindsided by this guest of yours.” 

“Oh, I’m  _so_ sorry” Adam said, too loud in the quiet house. “Didn’t Gansey warn you I was coming?”

He sounded genuinely concerned, and Gansey did his best to not sound annoyed when addressing him:

“I did.” He turned to his mother, who was a few steps ahead of him and Adam, and let a bit of that annoyance bleed into his tone. “In fact, Mother, I warned you several times that I was bringing someone, my… my boyfriend. Didn’t I?”

“Well, yes, but I wasn’t expecting someone quite so… You know”  _Poor._ She didn’t say it, but Gansey knew that’s what she was thinking. She made a pause, turning her head to glance at Adam over her shoulder, then back at Gansey, then back ahead. “I didn’t really think you would bring a boyfriend, that’s all. It’s not very much like you.”

Gansey stopped dead in his tracks, a type of anger he wasn’t used to forming a tight knot in his stomach. His mother didn’t seem to notice, continuing to talk about the furniture and the plans for dinner while she moved along, but Adam stopped with him, shooting him a curious look.

“I’m not offended”, he whispered, leaning in so close that his lips were almost brushing Gansey’s ear. “It’s part of the job, remember?”

Gansey knew that. But he also knew he couldn’t let that kind of thing slide. First, there was the subtle jab at his sexuality – “oh, we know you’re not  _really_ gay”, which yeah, he wasn’t, but that wasn’t what his parents meant. What they meant was “you don’t  _really_ like guys, because you like girls, so that is just a phase”. And Gansey was so tired of having to prove anything to them.

Second of all, his mom didn’t know hearing offenses was part of Adam’s job. She thought he was Gansey’s boyfriend, and still couldn’t be bothered to give him the benefit of the doubt and show some sympathy towards him. That, more than anything, was driving Gansey mad. If someday he brought someone he  _actually_ liked, and his mother kept throwing those comments at them, he wouldn’t be able to sit still through it. Actually, scratch that. He wasn’t even going to be able to sit through her jabbing at  _Adam._

Verbal discussions, however, weren’t the Gansey family’s style, and Gansey knew he was going to make it worst if he brought the subject up, specially in front of a guest (even if Mrs. Gansey didn’t like the guest in question). His eyes landed on one of the plates on the nearest table. The colorful glass shimmered, catching the light in a way that was almost hypnotic. An idea starting taking form in Gansey’s head.

“Gansey?” Adam called again. 

Gansey turned his face to look at him, and instinctively jumped back when he found out Adam’s face was very close to his. Feeling himself blush, Gansey turned his attention back to the decorative plate, reaching out with his free hand to grab it. His idea felt stupid, childish, almost, and he wasn’t sure how to put it in words in a convincing way, which was saying a lot. Gansey, like all the Ganseys, was great at convincing people.

“I was thinking”, he started, then winced, and decided to end this at once: “Could you… Can you break this?”

Adam’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t seem too alarmed. He looked at the plate, then back at Gansey’s face, considering.

“Why?”

“It’s just.” Gansey didn’t have a good reason for that, so he went with the truth: “I know it’s dumb, okay? I just… It will piss her off so much?”

Judging by Adam’s look, he also knew it was dumb. He stared at the plate a little longer, and Gansey was about to tell him that nevermind, he didn’t have to, when he finally spoke again, carefully:

“This looks very expensive.”

Gansey immediately knew what he was thinking, which only made him feel even more embarrassed.

“You won’t have to pay for it. I promise. I’m pretty sure they’re insured, but, I’ll pay for you, if it comes down to it” He made a vague gesture towards the rest of the room. “She has a dozen of those, anyway. She won’t miss this particular one too much.”

Something dark Gansey didn’t quite recognize passed through Adam’s eyes, almost like anger, but it was fleeting; in half a second, he was back to a carefully neutral expression. He stayed like that for a heartbeat longer, still as a statue, before a small smile formed on his lips and he reached out to take the plate from Gansey’s hands.

“Alright”, he said, and unceremoniously threw the glass plate onto the floor, hard.

The plate shattered with a loud noise that echoed in the room and probably through the rest of the house. There was something satisfying about the way it broke, sending pieces of sharp glass flying around their feet, that made a little thrill of excitement run through Gansey. It was a tamer version of the feeling he got from speeding up too much in his car or downing a shot of vodka too fast, the sort of behavior he had on what Ronan used to describe as his “Gansey-On-Fire” moments. He couldn’t help laughing a little, and, much to his surprise, Adam laughed with him, sounding surprised, like he couldn’t believe what he’d just done.

“Oh my God”, he muttered, sounding both amused and a little horrified. “That was  _so much money_ down the drain.”

“I know”, Gansey replied, delighted. “She’s gonna  _freak out._ ”

Like on cue, they heard the sound of footsteps approaching. The look of incredulity in Adam’s face was quickly replaced by concern and guilt as soon as Mrs. Gansey came back running into the room – that is, as far as Mrs. Gansey ever  _ran,_ which was mostly a power walk.

“What on Earth…” 

She stopped mid-sentence when she saw the remains of the plate on the carpet, her face turning white and then red and then white again. Gansey felt a pang of guilt, but mostly he felt the urge to laugh again. He swallowed down the giggle trying to rise from his throat and was about to apologize, but Adam beat him to it:

“Oh my  _God”_ he said again, in a completely different tone this time, affected to sound dramatic and heavy with guilt. “I am  _so so_ sorry, ma’am, it was all my fault, I didn’t look where I was going…”

“It’s alright, Adam”, Gansey said. Their fingers were still intertwined, he noticed, and he squeezed Adam’s hand. He didn’t know if Adam actually needed the reassurance, but it wouldn’t hurt their little act, either way. “It’s just a plate.”

If he hadn’t known how his mother’s collection of decorative plates was dear to her, he certainly would have learned now, from her expression alone.

“It’s just a plate”, Mrs. Gansey repeated, high-pitched and trying very clearly not to lose her temper, much to Gansey’s satisfaction. His mother could have said harsh words to him about breaking her things, but she would never,  _ever,_ be rude to a guest in her house, no matter how much she came to hate him. “It’s just. Right. Just a plate.”

Adam’s eyes were wild and honest, and Gansey almost believed him when he said:

“I feel terribly sorry, ma’am. I’d offer to get you a new one…”

“Absolutely not”, Gansey said, before his mother could say anything. “It was an accident. Right, Mother?”

Mrs. Gansey looked like she wanted to argue, but she didn’t. 

“Of course not, dear” She forced a smile. “It was very expensive, anyway. I don’t think…”

“Can you go get someone to clean this up, please?”, Gansey interrupted, before she could offend Adam further. “Thank you.”

“Don’t be silly, baby” That was Adam, and Gansey tried not to look too surprised at the nickname. “I’ll clean it up. Just fetch me a broom and I’ll…”

“I’ll get the house cleaner”, Mrs. Gansey said, apparently horrified with the prospect of Adam moving around more than necessary in a room full of glass items. “It’ll only be a minute. Dick, dear, could you finish showing the house to your… guest on your own? I have some errands to run before dinner.”

She barely waited for Gansey to nod before hastily making her exit. Silence befell the room for a long second, then both Adam and Gansey exploded into laughter. 

It was stupid, Gansey knew – they were grown men, for Christ’s sake, and they’d just destroyed private property for no reason other than annoying some poor woman. The fact that said woman was Gansey’s mother didn’t make it any better. But there was something so satisfying about it, even if it  _had_ been a childish and bratty way to act, and Gansey just couldn’t help himself.

Adam seemed to agree with him. He let go of Gansey’s hand – Gansey tried not to be too sad about it – to brace himself on one of the armchairs nearby, a satisfied smile still on his lips even when he stopped laughing.

“This is not what I imagined when I thought of getting back to the rich”, he said. “But it sure was fun. I hope it was useful for you.”

Suddenly, Gansey felt self-conscious about the whole thing.  _Adam must think I’m such a brat,_ he thought, but couldn’t see any perks in saying it aloud. So, instead, he said, more quietly than he intended on:

“I hope it wasn’t too much for you? I mean, I can pay you extra, if…”

“You don’t need to pay me extra for breaking your things, Gansey” Adam’s tone was amused, but his eyes were earnest. “It’s fine. Shall we continue the tour, then?”

He offered Gansey his hand again. Gansey got the feeling Adam was having a little too much fun with the whole ordeal, which was great. As much as he had hired Adam for his own benefit, knowing that Adam was enjoying himself made him feel a little less selfish. It also made him feel like he knew Adam, a little bit, which was bound to help with the whole boyfriend thing.

He took Adam’s hand, hesitated, then pulled it around his waist. Adam caught up and put his hand in the pocket of Gansey’s cargo pants.

“It’s fine”, he repeated, probably noticing how tense Gansey was, now that they were pressed so close together. “Come on, let’s go. Hopefully we’ll run into your sister on the way. She’s the one you wanted to prove wrong the most, right?”

Somewhere on the way out of the room, Gansey found the courage to put his own arm around Adam’s waist, his hand not in his pocket, but just resting lightly on his hip. Adam didn’t protest, and Gansey’s heart did a complicated dance in his chest.

They didn’t run into Helen, but they did cross paths with Mrs. Gansey, who shot them a badly disguised annoyed look. Adam smiled innocently and waved at her, and Gansey had to suppress a smile. Maybe  _he_ was also having a little too much fun with this fake dating thing,

***

When the tour was over, they still had some time to spare before dinner, so they settled in the greenhouse, partially hidden from the house behind a tall bush. Gansey had chosen the place because being in his room seemed too intimate, and staying around his family seemed too public – part of him wanted to be alone with Adam, to get to know more about him without the veil of their fake relationship getting in the way. He would have liked to go to the garden, but it was too cold, and the greenhouse was big and warm, so it would have to do. It was sort of romantic, too, but Gansey was trying not to think too hard about it.

It didn’t hurt that the plants would pretty much hide them from any onlookers on the outside. Gansey was sure Helen would be trying to spy on them through the windows as soon as she got home.

Adam hadn’t complained, instead following Gansey without hesitation when Gansey had pulled him by the hand towards the greenhouse. Now, he was walking around slowly, analyzing the plants like they were a complicated math problem, while Gansey sat on the picnic blanket he’d laid on the floor between a couple flowerpots. 

“Who takes care of all of those?”, Adam asked. Now that it was just the two of them, he’d gone back to his normal, moderate tone, and his accent was less thick, even if it was still thicker than when they’d first met at the coffee shop. “Is it a hobby of your mother’s, or…?”

“My mother doesn’t like to get her hands dirty”, Gansey replied, with a laugh. “She does like making flower arrangements, though. That’s why we have so many. But the gardener makes most of the maintenance.” 

“The gardener”, Adam muttered. “Of course.”

“I used to come here to hide when I was a kid”, Gansey admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Because, you know, no one ever  _comes_ in here, unless there’s a party going on or something.”

“Why here? I’m sure you have a ton of rooms to chose from, in a house like that.”

The tone wasn’t harsh, but there was some judgment to it, and Gansey did his best not to flinch.

“I don’t know”, he replied. “It felt… claustrophobic, sometimes? In there, I mean. It was easier to be outside. I’ve always liked nature.”

Adam touched a blue flower in one of the pots delicately.

“Yeah. Me too. I didn’t have a greenhouse to escape too, though” Before Gansey could ask him about it, he continued: “Can I ask you something? I know it’s none of my business, but I’m curious, and I think it could help with my character.”

“You can ask me anything”, Gansey said, automatically, and cursed himself mentally. Then, after a moment of consideration: “If I can ask you something in return?”

Adam thought about it.

“You can ask me”, he answered, quietly. “I won’t promise I will answer.”

It was good enough, Gansey supposed. He gestured for Adam to go ahead. Adam joined him on the picnic blanket, leaning back against the wall, not close enough to touch, but close enough that they’d look like a couple from afar, close enough that Gansey could feel the heat irradiating from him even in the warmth of the greenhouse. Too close for comfort. Gansey sort of wanted him to come closer.

“What’s the deal with you and your parents?” The question wasn’t what Gansey had been expecting; some of the confusion must’ve shown on his face, because Adam proceeded to explain: “I mean, you told me what happened when you came out to them, but this isn’t what I was expecting. I’ve done this a few times now, you know, and the parents are usually rude, hateful or just awful people in general, or a combination of all of these things. Your mom seems… Okay. I mean, you don’t seem to hate her or anything.”

It was a valid question, one Gansey didn’t have an easy answer for. He still wasn’t totally convinced that his motivations to annoy his parents were very good. He _didn’t_ hate them, and they sure didn’t hate him. The Ganseys loved and respected each other very much – but the courtesy didn’t always extend to other people outside their inner circle, which was part of the problem.

“I don’t hate my parents”, Gansey said, which sounded like a dumb confession. “They’re not even against gay or… Bi people, I suppose that’s what I am. They’re just very…” It took him a while to find the right word. “Traditional. In everything. Like, ‘my mom would get me an arranged marriage for political alliances if she could force me to go through with it’ traditional.”

Adam tilted his head to the side. He wasn’t looking at Gansey, more preoccupied with plucking the leaves from a withered branch he’d picked up from the floor.

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“It’s like” Gansey sighed. He knew what he was about to sound like: privileged, ungrateful, bratty, someone with too many First World problems and not enough social awareness. But Adam had asked, and so he would answer. “Their priorities are all messed up, I think that’s the best way to put it. Like, the first time I brought my best friend here, they hated him. Absolutely despised him. They never  _said_ anything, because they never do – that’s another annoying thing, by the way –, but I could tell.”

“Let me guess”, Adam said, with a smirk. “It was the leather-jacket-and-tattoos friend?”

Gansey couldn’t help but smile back. He wondered what Ronan would think of him sitting in the greenhouse, discussing him with this stranger. 

“Exactly.”

“Yeah, I can’t see your mom liking him.”

“She really didn’t. The only reason she tolerated him was that – well.” He hesitated for a second, then decided that he was going to make his mom sound like an asshole either way, so he’d better get it over with. “He was rich. That’s the main reason they never said anything about him. Even if they did think he was  _less_ rich for being a new rich, unlike…”

He trailed off, but Adam finished the sentence for you:

“Unlike your family, who’s old money.” 

Gansey nodded. Adam’s expression was blank. He was still staring at the branch in his hand, his blue eyes dark and impossible to read. Gansey didn’t need to read them to see what Adam was thinking, though. Anyone would be thinking that was ridiculous.

“I’m not like that”, he added, maybe a little too fast. “I don’t care who’s rich or whatever. Maybe you don’t believe me, but I… Well, I wanted you to know anyway.”

Finally, Adam looked at him, with the same look he’d been using to analyze the plants earlier: like Gansey was a mystery to be solved, a puzzle he didn’t quite comprehend. Which was funny, because that was sort of how Gansey felt about Adam. 

“It doesn’t matter what I think”, Adam said. He looked weirdly at ease there, among the plants and flowers, and the last remains of daylight coming through the glass walls rendered him ethereal, like something out of Gansey’s wildest dreams. “I’m not here to judge you. That’s not my job.”

“It matters to me”, Gansey countered, before he could stop himself. 

Adam opened his mouth to argue, brow furrowing slightly, but was interrupted by a voice calling “Dick!”. They both turned their heads just enough to look through the glass wall behind them, at the image of Helen Gansey marching down the path that led to the greenhouse. 

Disappointment for not being able to ask Adam his question filled Gansey’s guts, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it; he got distracted by Adam’s voice, telling him to “pinch me if you want me off”. Before he could ask what the fuck that meant, he was being pressed down against the floor by the weight of Adam settling onto his lap, one knee on each side of his body.

Gansey looked up at Adam’s face with wide eyes, only to be met with nonchalance and determination, like Adam just climbed onto strangers’ laps everyday. Maybe he did. Maybe that was a regular part of his job. He reached out to muss Gansey’s hair up and pinch his cheeks, then do the same to his own hair and face. 

“Bite your lip”, he said, and proceeded to follow his own instruction.

The vision of Adam Parrish on top of him biting his lower lip, flushed cheeks and messy hair, was  _distracting,_ and it took Gansey a moment too long to realize that Adam was trying to make it look like they’d been making out this whole time. He bit down on his lip, and kept biting at it even when the door opened and Helen walked in, because Adam was, objectively, hot, and Gansey was, objectively, touch starved, and, if he wasn’t careful, their simulation would look a little  _too_ real, boner and all.

Adam threw his hands around Gansey’s neck just in time, so that when Helen looked at them, she froze, one eyebrow raised in question, doing her best to look unimpressed, but clearly surprised by the vision in front of her.

“Oh, I’m sorry”, she said, in a tone that implied she wasn’t sorry at all. “I didn’t mean to  _intrude.”_

Adam looked like he was blushing, but it might have been the cheeks-pinching from earlier.

“No, I apologize, I mean,  _we_ apologize!” His accent was back with full force, which didn’t exactly help Gansey’s self-control. “Baby, I  _told you_ we were gonna get in trouble!”

“I- This was  _your_ idea” Gansey protested, mind still trying to wrap around what was happening. Adam glared at him, and, for a second, it looked like he really was angry, until he stage-whispered:

“You don’t gotta tell you  _sister_ that!”

Helen scoffed. She had already recovered from the shock, and was already looking as uninterested and superior as ever.

“Honestly, Dick, so many beds in this house…”

“Shut up”, Gansey shot back, dumbly. It was hard to maintain a conversation with Adam still seated atop of him like that. He cleaned his throat. “Adam, ah, sweetheart, could you…?”

The endearment felt weird on his tongue, but Adam acted as if it was perfectly normal.

“Right, of course.” He got up clumsily, rubbed his hands on his trousers and offered one of them to Helen. “I’m Adam, Gansey’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.”

Helen looked at the hand, then at Gansey, then back at the hand. She made no motion to shake it.

“Helen Gansey. I’m sure you’ve heard about me.”

“Of course! Gansey talks about his family a lot. I’ve been looking forward to meet you.”

“Right” Helen turned her attention to Gansey, who was still sitting on the floor, hoping it would open up and swallow him. “Mom says dinner’s almost ready. Can I have a word?”

Gansey rolled his eyes, sensing a sermon coming, but got up anyway, with Adam’s help, He gave Adam a weird pat on the back, unsure of how to act in this situation, and smiled encouragingly.

“Why don’t you go get changed? I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

“Alright, babe.” Adam leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, casual as anything. “See ya.”

Gansey watched him leave the greenhouse and march up the path back to the house, and he didn’t realize he was touching the spot on his cheek where he could still feel Adam’s hot lips until Helen pointed it out, with an “oh my God, you’re pathetic”. Regardless, she was also watching Adam as he walked away, approvingly.

“Well, at least he’s hot”, she declared. Gansey grimaced.

“Jesus, Helen, could you not?”

“I didn’t think you’d go this far” she said. “Seriously? You’re gonna tangle yourself in a web of lies because of a little teasing?”

Gansey’s stomach dropped, but he refused to let it show on his face.

“I don’t know what you mean”, he said. “I told you I was bringing my boyfriend over for Christmas. I told everyone.”

“So you did” Helen didn’t seem any more convinced, but she didn’t insist, much to Gansey’s relief. He wasn’t sure of how his lies would hold up under her scrutiny. “Well, my advice is, if you want him to stay til Christmas, stop fucking him in public, and stop him from breaking Mom’s things.”

“She told you, then?”

“Yeah, Dick, she told me. Jesus.” Helen shook her head. “I swear to God, if this is some prank…”

“It’s not a prank”, Gansey lied. Then, because he couldn’t help his curiosity: “So. How mad was mom?”

“Very. Very mad” Helen rolled her eyes at the smile that spread across Gansey’s face, even though she sounded a bit amused herself. “Jesus Christ, Dick, try not to kill the woman during the holiday season, yeah?”

She started walking back to the house, and Gansey followed in her tracks, but he didn’t make any promises.

Dinner was an awkward and delicate affair, as Gasney had predicted. It was Adam’s first encounter with Mr. Richard Campbell Gansey The II, who seemed very confused by that overly excited country boy in his dining hall, and even more confused to find that said country boy was dating his younger son. Adam seemed fittingly intimidated, but didn’t let that stop him from making conversation about his work at the farm (Gansey had no idea if he had ever worked or currently really worked at a farm), the food, the house and literally everything that came to mind. He even brought up the broken plate to apologize again, which was a nice touch and a good way to make everyone at the table mildly uneasy. 

The trickiest part was when Helen asked them how they’d met. Of course it would be Helen. Her tone indicated she was hoping to catch them in the lie, and she almost did – as soon as she was done talking, Gansey’s mind went blank, and he completely forgot about everything he’d planned before with Adam. Luckily, Adam didn’t; he jumped in, laughing too loudly to be polite:

“He’s always a little shy to tell the story, aren’t you, honey?” Adam stroked Gansey’s cheek tenderly with the hand that wasn’t holding the fork, which made Gansey blush furiously. “It’s understandable, I think. You see, I saw his profile on Grindr, and then we met for a couple of drinks. Then, I took him home, and, well. The rest is history, as they say.”

He put an arm around Gansey’s shoulders, smiling innocently as Mr. Gansey chocked on his scotch and Mrs. Gansey’s eyebrows tried to run away from her face, and their son tried to look unapologetic, which was hard, considering how red his face was. Helen was leaning forward, looking very invested on the story. She’d always loved drama, specially when involved people she knew personally.  _Specially_ when it involved her little brother. It was the main reason Gansey knew Helen wouldn’t say anything about thinking his relationship with Adam was fake: she wanted to see how far he was willing to go with the whole act. 

“Oh? Didn’t think Dick would be on Grindr”, she said, looking straight at Gansey. “It didn’t strike me as his scene.”

“He seemed pretty shy alright”, Adam replied, and his smile went from innocent to smug. “I got him to loosen up pretty quickly, though.”

This time, Gansey choked on his drink alongside his dad, and Adam patted him on the back gently. 

“Easy, sweetheart”, he muttered, then leaned closer to whisper. “Too much?”

“It’s fine”, Gansey managed to say. “I’m good. Thanks.”

Helen seemed ready to ask more invasive questions, but Mrs. Gansey quickly steered the conversation away from the topic, and Gansey had to admit he was a bit relieved. 

Both his parents seemed to want to end dinner as soon as possible, and Gansey didn’t want to subject Adam to time alone with Helen, so he too made a hasty exit as soon as dessert was finished and dragged Adam back upstairs, to his bedroom. As soon as the others were out of sight, Adam straightened his back a little, his face becoming serious, accent returning to carefully under control.

“Is everything okay?”

“Great”, Gansey replied. He hesitated at the door to his bedroom. “I… We still have time to fake that argument, if you want.”

Adam just shook his head. Gansey swallowed hard and opened the door. His bed seemed so narrow, now that he was imagining him and Adam laying on it. Had it always been that narrow, and he just didn’t realize because he used to be smaller? Was it all in his head? 

God, the simple idea of trying to share that mattress with Adam all night, worrying about touching him too much and making him uncomfortable, was exhausting. It was easy to make a decision about it. Gansey turned around and all but ran to the nearest guest room, ignoring Adam calling his name, to grab extra blankets and pillows. When he came back to his own room, Adam was standing in the center of it, looking as lost as Mr. Gansey had looked during dinner. 

“What are you…” He stopped when he saw Gansey throw the pillows and blankets on the floor next to the bed. “Gansey. Are you planning on sleeping on the floor?”

“Yeah? I mean, uh, I think it would be sort of… uncomfortable for you? To share a bed with me? You said you didn’t…”

He trailed off, uncertain. Was it his imagination, or did Adam seemed a little relieved? He stared at Gansey for a bit longer before admitting:

“Actually, I was going to suggest _I_ sleep on the floor.”

“You’re a guest”, Gansey replied, with an awkward smile. Adam shook his head in disbelief, but didn’t argue any further.

“Alright. Lock the door, then, so no one can catch us. It would completely blow our cover.”

Gansey obeyed. They finished getting ready for sleep in silence, and it was the most uncomfortable atmosphere they’d had between them since they’d gotten to D.C. Gansey wanted to ask his promised question to Adam, although he wasn’t sure what the question would be, but he felt like Adam wasn’t in the mood for talking, so he let it go. When he finally laid down on the floor besides the bed, however, it wasn’t the hardness of the wood below him that kept him awake for good part of the night. It was Adam, the memory of his body on top of Gansey, his hand in Gansey’s hair, and, most of all, all the unasked questions Gansey still had for him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rememebr in The Raven Boys, when Gansey's mom got mad at Helen for getting her a bronze plate for her award winning decorative plate collection, instead of a glass one? WELL TOO BAD FOR HER BECAUSE A BRONZE PLATE WOULDN'T HAVE BROKEN  
> Anyway happy holidays and see y'all tomorrow (with not one, but TWO updates because the Christmas Chapter TM got too long lmao)


	3. i don't want a lot for Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas for those who celebrate it!! If you don't, I still hope you're having a great day. It's Friday!
> 
> This one features kissing, some angst (tw: mentions of Adam's father and past child abuse), gifts and Gansey being an absolute disaster of a human being (but still trying his best!!). It's probably my favorite from the whole fic. I feel like I need to clarify that my knowledge of how Americans celebrate Christmas comes basically from what I've heard from friends and seen in movies, so I apologize if the traditions (or the church part, given I've never been to Protestant church) are incorrect lmao just pretend the Ganseys have a Different Cultural Heritage TM they're sticking to. I also had to google how cold it gets in Virginia. It was fun writing about a cold Christmas day when it's the middle of the goddamn hottest summer I've ever lived through lmao
> 
> Chapter title from "All I Want For Christmas Is You", because I just HAD TO. The My Chemical Romance version, though.

Gansey woke up the next morning with someone gently shaking his shoulder, and had a moment of disorientation trying to remember why he was on the floor and why someone else was in the room with him. Then, he heard Adam’s voice, made softer by sleep:

“Your family is up. Do you want me to unlock the door so they can find us, or…?”

It took way too long for Gansey’s half-awake brain to process the words and the meaning behind them, and even longer for it to calculate the pros and cons of Adam’s suggestion. It would shock his parents, even if just a little, he supposed, to barge in and see him in bed with his alleged boyfriend, but what won the argument was the selfish but undeniable fact that he really, really wanted to lay in bed with Adam. Even if they didn’t even touch.

“Yeah”, he muttered, scrambling to get his bearings. “If you don’t mind.”

He heard the click of the lock opening, and then Adam was back on the mattress. Without his glasses or contacts, Gansey could only see his blurry figure, all tanned skin and long limbs, and no face. He stared for too long, long enough that Adam felt the need to call him again:

“Come to bed, Gansey.”

In the time it too him to get up and make his way towards the bed, Gansey allowed himself to imagine a different scenario, one in which he was really woken up beside his boyfriend, who was inviting him to stay in bed just a little longer. One in which Adam  _wanted_ him in bed with him, and wasn’t doing it just because it was his job. The thought made his chest feel too tight. He hoped none of it showed on his face; Adam didn’t wear glasses, he could probably see Gansey’s expression all too well this close.

And they were very close indeed. Gansey laid on his back, tense and completely still, careful not to disturb Adam or invade his personal space; it had been a while since he’d felt so self-conscious sharing a space with someone else. Adam, on the other hand, was on his side, his back to the wall and his face turned to Gansey. His eyes were closed, and he seemed to go back to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but Gansey still had the weird feeling he was being observed the whole time.

***

Adam fell back asleep, in spite of his best judgment. He wasn’t exactly comfortable being so close to strangers, even if the stranger in question wasn’t very threatening. That had been why he’d decided to lay facing Gansey: as awkward as it was, it was still better than turning his back to him.

His mind was set on not sleeping any more; it had been part of the agreement he’d made with himself when he’d taken the job. In the two years Adam had been in this “boyfriend for hire” business, he had never taken on a job that demanded he stayed at someone’s house for more than a night, and even those were few and far between. It was just dangerous. Like he’d told Gansey at the coffee shop, people tended to mistake him for a prostitute, a plaything or an object they’d bought, all things Adam hated to be mistaken for, the latter more than the others. 

Here’s the thing, though: a three-day job meant three times the money. More, even, because Adam charged extra for holidays. Not that he had anywhere he’d rather be for Christmas, but his costumers didn’t know that. And, as far as fake dating gigs went, this one wasn’t so bad. He was basically being paid to stay at a five star hotel, all inclusive, in exchange of annoying a couple rich people he’d resent anyway even if they’d met under different circumstances. He still wasn’t over the fact the Ganseys had so much money that Gansey had gotten him to smash one of their expensive decorative items, and they’d all just reacted as if he’d broken a trinket they could replace at the dollar store. Seeing that had made shattering the plate all the more satisfying. Blue would’ve been proud of him for it.

Adam hated the role, the whole naive-country-boy act, and, most of all, hated the way Mr. and Mrs. Gansey frowned at his accent – it hit a little too close to home -, but those were just the bones of the trade. Adam was a professional liar, and, as such, he’d learned to push past all of those things. Getting his feelings hurt was an occupational hazard, one well worth the money he was making for it.

Plus, Gansey wasn’t the worst fake boyfriend he’d ever had. He wasn’t a creep, which was always good, and he seemed fairly respectful of Adam’s boundaries. Adam would even go as far as call him nice, in a “trying way too hard” kind of nice, that indicated he was desperately to be liked and trying to hide that. Adam wondered if he had any friends, other than Leather-Jacket-and-Tattoo Guy. It was hard not to resent him, seeing as he lived and how little he appreciated his huge childhood house and loving parents, but it could be worse. Adam even mused that, in another life, they could’ve been friends.

Maybe that was why it was so much easier than it should’ve been for him to lower his guard enough to fall asleep next to Gansey. Or maybe Gansey just didn’t feel like a threat. Or – and this seemed more likely – maybe Adam was perpetually tired, and his body didn’t care if he was in a safe space; an opportunity to rest was an opportunity to rest, and he was going to take it whether he liked it or not. 

In fact, Adam was sleeping so profoundly that he didn’t even stir when the door opened to let in a very wary Mr. Gansey. He only woke up to the sound of Gansey’s voice, strained and high pitched in a way that Adam had come to know, without having to look at him, meant that he was blushing:

“Yes, Father, we’ll be there in a second.”

Adam looked up just in time to catch Mr. Gansey’s expression: uncomfortable, but not as much as Gansey would’ve liked, probably. Weirdly enough, he seemed to be the chillest of all the Ganseys, which was news to Adam. In his past experiences, both personal and as a fake boyfriend, fathers were usually the worst.

“Alright, then”, Mr. Gansey said. He hesitated for a moment longer, his gaze shifting from Adam to Gansey, and Adam offered him a sheepish smile that might have come off only a little smug. He needed some more time to get in character before he went full out.

Then, Mr. Gansey left, and Gansey scrambled to his feet so fast that for a second Adam thought he’d rolled over and fallen on the floor. Adam was slower to sit up, blinking when Gansey pulled back the curtains on the window and sunlight flooded the room. In this light, the Gansey standing next to him with his glasses and messy hair and his old-fashioned pajamas looked a world away from the Gansey Adam had met at the coffee shop: younger, more vulnerable, more like the boy who’d put up all of those posters on the wall and hid in the greenhouse than the man that had discussed politics so comfortably at dinner yesterday. 

He didn’t look like the guy who’d asked Adam to smash one of his mother’s expensive plates, either; that had been a different Gansey altogether. Adam was quickly coming to realize Gansey was many people at once, and, reluctantly, he had to admit he was curious to find out how all of those facets of his personality fit together. 

“Merry Christmas”, Gansey said, then frowned. “Or happy holidays, I suppose? I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask what you celebrate.”

That took Adam by surprise. For a moment, he’d forgotten, dumbly, it was Christmas morning; the realization hit him hard, and he tried not to look too closely at the reason why Christmas had never been a good day for him. It was weird to think he was spending it with this stranger and his family, but Adam knew he was still better off than with his own parents. Every year, he thought he was finally over feeling guilty for not going home for Christmas. Every year, he repeated to himself all of the reasons why he’d left and never looked back. Every year, he told himself he was better off on his own, all things considered.

And, every year, he found out it never got easier.

He could’ve spent the holidays with Blue, he supposed. Her family had sort of adopted him, in a sense, and she’d told Adam he’d be welcome to stay with them for a few days. It wouldn’t be the first time. Blue’s moms had always been kind to Adam: they knitted him ugly sweaters, force-fed him more hot chocolate than he could possibly drink, and always sent him home with cookies and leftovers from Christmas lunch. It had been a tempting offer, but the money of a three-day job had been more tempting. Luckily, Blue respected that, as long as Adam agreed to send her the address he was at and text her every now and then to let her know he wasn’t dead in a ditch somewhere. He made a mental note wish her a Merry Christmas later.

Adam realized he had been staring at Gansey like an idiot for a while now, and forced himself to smile.

“It’s fine”, he said. “Merry Christmas, Gansey.”

Gansey made that face that Adam was quickly getting used to, the one that meant he wanted to ask a question, but was restraining himself for Adam’s sake. Instead, he said:

“They’re expecting us downstairs for breakfast and opening gifts.”

The words twisted like a knife in Adam’s gut. He could picture it, the Ganseys sitting under a huge Christmas tree, exchanging expensive gifts and laughing like the perfect family in a sitcom. The kind of family Adam had never even allowed himself to dream of. He tried not to let any of his envy show on his face.

“Okay” He stood up and reached for his bag. He picked one of the less tattered outfits he’d packed, imagining that even his farmer boy persona would show some elegance on Christmas morning. Not too much, though. He saved the most elegant of all for later; Gansey had told him they’d be going to church, and Adam didn’t want to make a  _complete_ fool of himself. “I’ll go change in the bathroom.”

A few minutes later, Adam was meeting Gansey at the top of the stairs so they could go join the rest of the family together. Gansey was wearing a pristine red and green Christmas sweater that looked so soft it made Adam want to reach out to run his fingers through it, and he hadn’t put his contacts back on, still wearing his wire frame glasses. He looked rich, polite and smart, which, Adam supposed, he really was. 

He also offered his arm to Adam like the romantic interest in an old timey romantic novel, and Adam couldn’t help but smiling at that. 

“Shall we?”, Gansey asked. Adam intertwined their arms; the sweater was indeed very soft to the touch. 

“Lead the way.”

The house was big enough that he had a lot of time to get back in character on the way to the dining room, so he could walk in and say “Merry Christmas, everyone!” loudly without cringing too much. The Ganseys’ reactions were getting predictable at this point: Mrs. Gansey gave him a strained smile that indicated she was trying very hard to remain agreeable, Mr. Gansey said “Merry Christmas” back with a face like he had no idea what to make of Adam, and Helen looked amused as always, raising her mimosa in a toast. Adam found he didn’t dislike them as much as he had expected.

Gansey, in turn, looked quite pleased with himself, which Adam supposed meant he was also pleased with Adam, which made Adam a little more satisfied than he would’ve liked to admit. 

Breakfast was quicker and lighter than dinner in many senses. Gansey sat next to Adam, but they didn’t touch save for the occasional brush of their arms when they reached for something, and Mr. and Mrs. Gansey seemed careful to avoid any touchy subject that might lead to more exposure of Gansey’s private life. Adam had to admit that making them blush the night before had been fun, even if it made him cringe hard internally, but it seemed like the Ganseys were getting used to his shenanigans way too fast; maybe it was time to dial it up a notch.

They only had two hiccups. The first one was when Helen mentioned going to church later and asked Adam if he believed in God. It was very obvious she was trying to stir the pot, which earned her an evil glance from Gansey, but Adam just joyfully answered he was an atheist, like it was no big deal. In reality, he was closer to agnostic than anything, which wouldn’t be seen in a much better light, but he’d talked it over with Gansey before they’d gotten to D.C. The Ganseys didn’t care much about religion on itself. What they did care about, as politicians and public figures, was appearances, and being a good Christian family helped them appeal to a certain demographic much needed to keep them where they were at the moment.

The reaction to his declaration wasn’t as dramatic as Adam had hoped for. Mr. Gansey’s grimace only lasted for a second before being replaced by his usual neutral expression, and Helen arched an eyebrow at Gansey before turning to see their mother’s reaction. Mrs. Gansey’s lips were pursed tightly, but, when she spoke, it wasn’t to scold Adam or argue with him. Instead, she addressed Gansey, sounding calm:

“Your Grandmother is going to love this one.”

The other awkward moment wasn’t designed to piss off Gansey’s parents. In fact, it  _really_ wasn’t in Adam’s plans, since the only person he managed to upset was himself. 

It came right at the end of the meal, when they were already discussing moving to the living room. Much to Gansey’s surprise, Mr. Gansey seemed to be actually making an effort to include Adam in conversation; they had talked about politics (which Adam pretended not to know anything about), the current economy (which Adam didn’t have to pretend not to know anything about) and the old cars Mr. Gansey collected (which Adam just couldn’t pretend not to know anything about, because he loved cars and had very little opportunity to show off his knowledge of the subject). 

Then, predictably, he started asking personal questions. Adam had most of the answers about his character’s life ready to go: he didn’t go to college (he was actually halfway through law school), he was a farmer at his parents’ farm (he was a student, mechanic, machine operator, boyfriend for hire on the weekends), his mom was a stay at home mom (true), his dad was also a farmer (untrue). It was harmless enough, until it wasn’t.

It was on this last topic that things got slippery. Mr. Gansey asked Adam how his family usually celebrated Christmas, probably an innocent question designed to make him feel more welcome at their house and make conversation. He had no way of knowing that thinking of the last Christmas he’d spent at his parents house would make Adam’s breath catch in his throat, send his heart racing and his hands trembling, make him want to retreat to that safe and isolated place in his mind where he could dissociate from everything tangible around him. He couldn’t have possibly know how unsafe that memory would make Adam feel.

Gansey seemed to know, somehow. Distantly, Adam felt Gansey’s hand close around his own over the table, heard his concerned voice calling his name. It wasn’t the sweet, phony tone he’d used to call Adam “sweetheart” the day before. This wasn’t him pretending to care about Adam because he was expected to; this was genuine worry, which was what ultimately got Adam to react. 

It took most of his willpower not to pull his hand away from the touch. He breathed in deeply through his nose, then out through his mouth, once, twice, enough times that his heartbeat stopped drowning out all the sounds around him. He realized he’d been quiet, staring blankly at the wall on the other side of the room, for too long. The Ganseys were all looking at him with varying levels of concern: Mrs. Gansey with motherly distress, Mr. Gansey seeming like he could sense he’d made a terrible mistake, Helen with clear concern for Adam’s sanity.

And then there was Gansey, whose expression Adam couldn’t see without turning his head, which he didn’t. Gansey didn’t motion to touch Adam any more or get any closer, but he stayed there, a solid presence by his side, and Adam was weirdly grateful for that. He managed a weak smile.

“I’m sorry”, he said, and the cheerfulness in his voice sounded fake even to him. This time, he didn’t have to force his accent to come out; he was simply too otherwise preoccupied to hide it. He went on, talking fast, as if that could keep the sour taste of the words out of his mouth: “I’m not fully awake yet, I think. My family is, you know, regular. Not a lot of gifts, you know, not a lot of money, and we don’t go to mass or anything. But we do it pretty much as you guys… In a much smaller house.”

It was supposed to be humorous, but no one laughed; they just kept staring at him. Adam took another deep breath. Another deep breath, another smile, another quirky comment, and then he could leave.

“If you’ll excuse me”, he said, and somehow managed to get up, even though his legs felt like jelly. “I need to use the bathroom.”

He all but ran away from the table.

Adam didn’t even know where the bathroom was on the ground floor; he went inside the first door he found, which turned out to be a guest room, and crumbled on the floor by the door, his head between his knees, his hands crossed behind his neck. 

_Five minutes,_ he told himself.  _You get to lose it for five minutes, and then you go back in there. Gansey’s not paying you to slack around._

A parade of repressed memories flashed through his brain: a fist colliding with the left side of his face, Adam curled up on the floor with his hands up, blood running through his red Coca-Cola t-shirt, his father looming over him like something out of a nightmare. Adam dug his fingers into the carpet below him, pushing back against the flood of images, telling himself  _you’re alright, you’re alive, you’re safe,_ trying to force his mind to remember where his body was.

Sometimes, it worked faster than others. This time, it seemed to take forever.

Luckily, it also took forever for Gansey to find him. When Adam heard the knock on the door and the hesitant “Adam?” from the other side, he didn’t feel like he was dying anymore. He just felt a little feverish and shaky, which was as close to “good” he could expect to get anytime soon.

“I’m coming”, he answered. He could hear Gansey hesitate.

“Can I… Can I help? Do you need anything?”

Adam closed his eyes for a second.

“I’m fine.” he said, and then, to try to convince himself: “I’m  _fine._ I’ll be out in a minute.”

Silence. Then:

“I’ll be waiting here.”

There was a strange comfort to that, and Adam allowed himself to cling to it, as insubstantial as it was. He got up, straightened his spine, made sure he hadn’t cried, took a deep breath and opened the door. On the other side, Gansey seemed ready to kick down the door to come rescue him. He looked almost as panicked as Adam had been.

“I’m sorry”, he said, at the same time Adam murmured:

“Sorry for running away like that.”

They both stopped talking, staring at each other like they had just met for the first time. Gansey gave an awkward chuckle.

“You don’t have to apologize”, he said. Adam raised an eyebrow.

“Neither do you.”

“Well, on behalf of my family. I didn’t hear what my father said, but…”

“It wasn’t his fault”, Adam interrupted. “Your parents have made some mean comments about me, sure, but this wasn’t… It’s okay. It wasn’t his fault. I’m fine.”

Judging by the look on Gansey’s face, he wasn’t buying it, but he must’ve realized it was useless to try to push Adam to talk, because he just shrugged, resigning.

“If you say so. But do let me know if they become too much. Okay?”

Adam smiled. It was a small thing, but it was still  _something._

“Okay, Gansey.”

“Okay” Gansey repeated, then offered his arm to Adam like he’d done earlier. “Let’s open some gifts, then.”

When they joined the rest of the Ganseys in the living room, all three of them pointedly avoided staring at Adam or asking what had happened, which was a small mercy from the universe. Adam wasn’t sure he could’ve found a way to make that sound light, and he didn’t feel like telling the truth, either. He locked the episode up in a box at the back of his head and forced himself to slip back into his cheerful country persona and focus on the situation at hand. 

The Ganseys were scattered around the room in armchairs and couches, and had left a two-seat couch for Adam and Gansey to seat on, pressed close together. Helen winked at Adam when they settled on it, making it obvious that it had been all her plan, and Adam almost smiled back at her. He was closer to another human being than he would’ve liked to be at the moment, but at least it was Gansey; his presence was almost comforting, at this point.

The ritual of gift exchange was the moment Adam had been dreading the most. Gansey had told him not to bother getting anything, arguing that it would be considered very rude by his parents, which was their main goal, after all.

“Besides”, he had added. “I can’t ask you to  _spend_ money on me. If I wanted you to give them anything, I’d buy it myself.”

It was a matter of logic, Adam knew that, not of finances. He didn’t  _want_ to spend money on a job, and it didn’t make sense that he would. But knowing that didn’t make him feel any better while he stood in front of the Ganseys and admitted he hadn’t gotten anyone anything, his face burning in embarrassment. It didn’t feel like a matter of logic. It felt like a matter of what they could afford and what Adam couldn’t, and it made his skin crawl even more than the giant house and expensive decoration already had. 

It didn’t help that Mr. Gansey gave him a look of poorly disguised pity, and Mrs. Gansey frowned slightly but muttered an “it’s okay, dear”. Adam knew that look. He’d seen it several times in the faces of teachers and classmates of the private school he’d gone to high school at. It was the look of rich people being made uncomfortable by the realization that not everyone was as rich as them, and assuming those people were to be pitied and patronized. There was nothing in the world Adam hated more than that look.

Surprisingly, Helen Gansey seemed to be the only one sensible enough to notice how uncomfortable Adam was. She stared at him for a long second, then at Gansey, then quickly shifted the focus away from them and back to her own obnoxiously expensive gifts.

The Ganseys had gotten each other exactly the type of stuff Adam had been expecting: jewelry for Helen, beautiful glass plates and ornaments like the one Adam had broken the day before for Mrs. Gansey, watches and silk ties and shirts for Mr. Gansey and his son. Helen gave Gansey a book on Amerindian history and folklore, which seemed to both surprise and please him greatly. To Adam, the gifts seemed terribly impersonal, all things you’d buy for someone you didn’t really know, but the entire family seemed happy with them. They laughed and joked about color schemes and mocked each other’s taste, just like he’d seen Blue’s family do, and it was so domestic and easy that Adam’s heart clenched in his chest while he tried not to spiral back to the memories of Christmas in his own family home.

They had gotten Adam gifts, too, which only made him feel a thousand times worse and made Gansey look positively shocked: gift cards from a fancy suit boutique in D.C. and from a bookstore from Helen and Mr. Gansey, respectively, and a small flowerpot with a tiny green sprout blooming from Mrs. Gansey, who offered him an almost apologetic smile while handing over the pot.

“I wasn’t sure what to get you”, she admitted. “But Gansey mentioned you liked nature, so I thought you’d like this.”

His gifts were even more impersonal, and clearly bought last minute – they _really_ hadn’t believed Gansey would bring someone, it seemed –, but Adam felt ridiculously grateful for it anyway. He accepted them silently, suddenly at a loss for words, which earned him a concerned glance from Gansey. In fact, they were  _all_ staring at him, gauging his reaction, and Adam felt his cheeks burning. He hoped it wasn’t obvious he’d only ever gotten Christmas gifts from Blue and her moms. He hoped it wasn’t obvious how touched he was by this.

Most of all, he hoped it wasn’t obvious how mad he was at Gansey for having parents like this and taking them for granted.

“I’m sorry”, he muttered, for what it felt like the hundredth time that morning. “I love it. All of it. It’s just…” It took him a second to remember his perfect excuse for being so embarrassed: “I feel bad I didn’t get you guys anything.”

“Don’t sweat it”, Helen said, and she seemed to mean it. Turned out she just wanted to finish the subject as soon as possible so they could move on: “Dick, didn’t you get your boyfriend anything?”

All eyes, including Adam’s, turned to Gansey, who seemed startled, like he’d genuinely forgotten about it.

“Ah, yes. Of course” He fumbled for a moment, looking in his pockets and under the tree, until he finally fished out a red box from under the ripped wrapping paper. He turned shyly to Adam and handed it to him.

Adam took it but didn’t open it, locking his eyes on Gansey’s, suddenly feeling very exposed under the scrutiny of the other Ganseys. He struggled to swallow the unease in his gut and stick to the character.

“Babe!”, he exclaimed, trying to sound fond. “I thought we’d agreed on no presents.”

“I know”, Gansey replied, and his tone was much more serious than the situation demanded. “But I, uh. I saw this and thought of you…?”

It was clear to Adam – and probably to Helen, judging by her face – that he was only saying what he thought would be romantic to say, but it didn’t matter. Adam had no choice but to open the box and look excited about whatever was inside. He prayed it wasn’t some sort of sex toy. It wouldn’t be the first time he exposed his fake sex life with someone to their families, but that stuff had to be discussed previously so he’d know how to react, at least.

It wasn’t a sex toy. It was a watch, simple with black leather bands and silver details, but obviously very,  _very_ expensive, from a fancy brand Adam couldn’t afford to even look at. 

Adam felt like he’d been punched in the gut. It looked as generic as everything else, except it wasn’t – he remembered telling Gansey when they’d met that his watch was broken. It could be a coincidence. But it could _not_ be, and, somehow, that made it better and worse at the same time. Gansey had been paying attention to the real Adam _,_ not only to fake boyfriend Adam, enough to even spend money on him. On _him,_ not on the job he was doing, not on the role he was playing. It made Adam feel sick. It made him feel a little thankful, too. 

“You shouldn’t have”, he said, and it was him speaking, not his persona. 

Gansey’s cheeks were red. He shrugged, looking away from Adam.

“I wanted to.”

A sharp whistle echoed through the room; it was Helen, looking utterly amused by the boys’ awkwardness.

“What a gift, Dick”, she said. “You must really like this one.”

It was only then that Adam realized that he was expected to have a bigger reaction, both because his alleged boyfriend had just gotten him something expensive and beautiful and because of the cheerful personality he’d established for himself. 

With a bit of a delay, he put the box with the watch aside, carefully balanced on the arm of the couch, and threw his arms around Gansey’s neck, pulling him for a hug and exclaiming “thank you, honey, I love it!”. It was mostly an excuse so he could whisper in Gansey’s ear:

“I’m gonna kiss you now. Pinch me if you want me off.”

He didn’t wait for Gansey’s reaction. It had been discussed previously, after all, and they’d both agreed that kissing wasn’t off the table, although they would try to keep it at the minimum necessary to keep their relationship convincing. Adam had been avoiding it up until now, since making out with costumers wasn’t his favorite thing to do, but he couldn’t see a way of getting out of this one without either a kiss or looking like a very ungrateful boyfriend. Plus, a little PDA was bound to shock conservative parents, and that  _was_ what he was getting paid for, after all.

And, well, Gansey didn’t exactly seem to care. He froze at first, caught by surprise, but started kissing back soon enough, his hands clutching Adam’s shirt like a lifeline, his lips moving hesitantly, almost like he was afraid of rejection. It was… pleasant, more so than Adam had expected. He decided he wouldn’t mind kissing Richard Gansey III of his own volition, in a different scenario – and, judging by the other guy’s reaction, Gansey wouldn’t mind, either.

The kiss wasn’t particularly heated, but Adam leaned into Gansey so he was almost on his lap, and it lasted longer than it would be appropriate in public. Long enough, in fact, for Mr. Gansey to clean his throat noisily to get them to pull apart from each other. Gansey’s face was flushed and his eyes were wide, and he got even redder when Adam smiled apologetically (but not so apologetically as to look truly repentant) and said, sounding more breathless than he actually was:

“Whoops, my bad. I just get caught up sometimes, you know, in  _him_ ” His arms were still around Gansey’s neck, and he tugged lightly on Gansey’s hair, laughing. “But I mean, who wouldn’t, right? He’s so…”

“Adam”, Gansey interrupted, then corrected himself: “Sweetheart. I believe that’s enough.”

Adam pouted, barely containing his laughter at Gansey’s embarrassment and his family’s shock. Even Helen seemed surprise by their sudden making out session, one eyebrow quirked and mouth slightly open. 

“What? I mean, they made you. I’m sure they know the effect you have on people.”

“Oh my God”, Helen said, amused. 

Mr. Gansey had choked on his drink again – tea or coffee this time, Adam guessed, something in a mug. This was the part where Adam allowed himself to have a little fun with his job. Usually, he was a very restrained person, polite and proper because he had been forced to be by circumstance. So, if he was playing a character that allowed it, it was good to loosen up, say whatever inappropriate thing came to mind for once, shock the masses with his behavior. It took him a lot of effort not to start cackling and Mr. and Mrs. Gansey’s expressions, but he allowed himself to look a little smug. Adam might not particularly enjoy his job as a boyfriend for rental, but he sure was good at it, and the thrill at being good at something always got to him one way or another.

“Well, I believe this concludes the exchange of gifts” Mrs. Gansey said, getting up. She sounded calm, but Adam could tell by her expression they had thrown her off balance. “Richard, dear, go pick up Mother, yes? She’ll want to be here for lunch.” She spared one last glance towards where Adam and Gansey were seated, Adam’s leg thrown over Gansey’s. “Dick, don’t forget we have church later.”

“Yes, Mother”, Gansey answered, absently. He was staring at Adam with a look of bewilderment in his eyes. “I remember.”

“Good”, Mrs. Gansey said, and made her exit, quickly followed by Mr. Gansey. Helen stayed for a moment longer, smiling at the couple.

“That was a low blow, Dick.”

Gansey opened his mouth to reply, but Adam beat him to it, his tone cheerful:

“I know, right? That watch is  _so_ beautiful. He  _had_ to know I would be all over him the moment he handed me that.”

He watched with satisfaction while Helen’s amusement faded into a grimace.

“Ugh, okay, this is enough for me.” She got up. “Please, try not to ruin the couch when I’m gone. We sit there.”

“We won’t-” Gansey started, and Adam cut him off with:

“We’ll try our best!”

Helen looked mildly disgusted when she left, and Adam finally allowed himself a giggle, low and private. 

“Oh my God”, Gansey said, voice shaky.

Immediately, Adam’s expression went serious. Belatedly, he realized his leg was still over Gansey’s, and pulled it away.

“Was it too much? You should’ve pinched me.”

Gansey shook his head, still staring up at him. His hair was a little messy from the tugging, and Adam reached out to fix it without thinking about it. Gansey tensed up at the touch, which, in turn, made Adam tense, too. Then, he relaxed, and Adam hesitantly combed his hair with his fingers.

“I wasn’t expecting it”, Gansey answered, finally. “But it was okay. I think… Well, they definitively believe it now. Even Helen.”

“Yeah” Adam’s gaze fell on the watch, still balanced on the arm of the couch, and the knot in his stomach, the one he always felt when people did him favors he couldn’t repay, came back tighter than before. “The watch was a nice touch.”

Gansey’s face lit up.

“You liked it? I didn’t know what your, hm, style was, but you told me your watch had broken, and I figured…”

“It’s beautiful”, Adam interrupted. “You didn’t have to. It was very thoughtful of you, but I can’t keep it.” 

His heart ached as he watched Gansey’s expression shatter.

“What? Why? Adam, I  _know_ I didn’t have to. But I wanted to.”

There wasn’t an easy way to explain it, so Adam just shook his head.

“It’s too nice, Gansey. I just… I appreciate it, but I can’t.”

“If this is about money, it’s not like it bankrupted me” There it was. Adam knew that, nice or not, Gansey was still rich, and would, at some point, unwittingly be an asshole about it, not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t know any better. His voice was honest and sweet, not at all like he was trying to rub his money on Adam’s face, but that wasn’t the point. “It isn’t a big deal. I wouldn’t have gotten it if I couldn’t afford it.”

Which made the whole thing even worse. Because Gansey could just buy a five thousand dollar watch like it wasn’t a big deal, and that made him incapable of fully grasping that some people, people like Adam, knew the true weight of something that expensive. Adam pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. Suddenly, he felt as tired as ever, despite how well he’d slept the night before.

“You’re already paying me. I don’t ask for extra money.”

“This isn’t  _payment,_ Adam.” The confusion on Gansey’s face was painful to see. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t want charity, either.”

The words came out before Adam could stopped himself, and he winced at the way Gansey flinched like he’d just been slapped. There it was. Adam had known, deep down, from the moment they’d gotten to the house, that this side of him would surface eventually. The side that couldn’t help the bitterness in his mouth around people like the Ganseys, who had everything and acted like it was nothing. Even the nicest of them.

“It isn’t  _charity”_ Gansey sounded hurt, which only made Adam angrier. “Jesus, Adam, it was a gift. A Christmas gift. There’s nothing else to it.”

Suddenly, Adam didn’t feel like fighting anymore. He grabbed the box with the watch and shoved it into Gansey’s hands.

“Keep it”, he said. “Is it alright if I go for a walk? I’ll be back in time for lunch, or whatever.”

Looking disoriented by the turn of events, Gansey just nodded, still staring at Adam like he was being irrational. Adam left before either of them could do any more damage.

He ended up at the greenhouse, hoping Gansey wouldn’t have the same idea. He was already starting to regret his little outburst. If anything, it was bad for business; Adam didn’t  _have_ to be friends with his costumers, but it sure made it a lot easier to pretend he was in love with them. 

Adam spent the rest of the morning laying among the green leaves and colorful flowers and wondering what if he would’ve gotten Gansey for Christmas, if he had gotten him anything at all. It was a difficult question: what could he get someone who already had everything?

It was pointless, too. They weren’t boyfriends, they weren’t even friends – there was no room for Christmas gifts in their strictly professional relationship. Gansey should’ve known that. And yet, somehow, a tiny part of Adam was glad he hadn’t.

***

Gansey had had some pretty weird Christmases in the past: suspicious carolers, freaky accidents, car crashes, getting snowed in an old haunted house that one year he’d spent in Scotland. There had also been the remarkably uncomfortable occasion when he’d brought Ronan home with him, right after Ronan’s parents’ death, and the depressing times right after his mother had lost her first election. 

He had to admit, though, that hiring a fake boyfriend, kissing him, giving him a gift and then arguing over said gift might take the prize for “weirdest Christmas celebration to ever take place in the Gansey household”.

He stayed in the living room long after Adam had left, feeling like he’d just been smacked in the face and then kicked in the gut. Which had happened, verbally. Gansey replayed the argument over and over in his head, then the days leading to it, all the way back to his first encounter with Adam at the café, trying to remember if there had been any clue that buying something for Adam would be that catastrophic. He couldn’t find anything, but he felt stupid for not having guessed it nonetheless.

It had been sort of an impulse buy. Gansey had been finishing up some last minute shopping before driving up to D.C. – he’d had to replace his father’s gift after finding out he already had what Gansey had gotten him – when he’d seen the watch, and couldn’t help but remembering Adam’s words. It was supposed to be a nice gesture. He really didn’t see it as pity; he had bought the watch not because he didn’t think Adam could afford to buy it himself, but because Gansey wanted be the one to give it to him.

Which, in hindsight, had been silly, he admitted. They barely knew each other. Adam had no reason to appreciate it as a gesture. But Gansey had imagined he would at least appreciate the gift in on itself. It  _was_ a nice watch, after all. 

As far as Gansey could see, Adam had no reason to freak out over it, either. He just didn’t get it.

The boyfriend thing to do would be to go after him, try to talk it out. Adam wasn’t his boyfriend, though, and Gansey had the feeling Adam might need some time to cool down. Besides, he could use some alone time himself. It wasn’t even near noon, and it had already been a long day.

He’d woken up in a great mood, seeing his father’s expression when he saw Gansey and Adam sharing a bed, even if they weren’t even touching. The mood had lasted all the way through breakfast, had even improved by Mrs. Gansey’s reaction to Adam’s lack of Christian faith – until, that is, Adam got up and ran out.

Gansey had been roped into discussing the next elections with his mother, so he hadn’t heard what Adam and Mr. Gansey were talking about. He’d turned to his father, anger rising in his chest way too quick.

“What did you say to him?”

Mr. Gansey had only shook his head, seeming as surprised as everyone else.

“I asked about his family, that’s all.”

Finding Adam felt like it took forever, but it didn’t matter, since Adam wouldn’t let him in anyway. All Gansey could do was stand nervously outside of the room and hope for the best, and, when Adam had come out, he had looked as put together as usual, if only a little shaky, and Gansey hadn’t had the guts to push him to talk about whatever happened. Later, he’d told himself. Adam still owed him a question; maybe that would be it.

He’d gotten distracted after that by the whole gift exchange things, and then the kiss. The kiss above everything else, admittedly. 

Gansey had told himself he would be ready to kiss Adam and not make a fuss over it. It would be like a business transaction, meant to be more visual than anything, and he would  _not_ freak out over it.

He did freak out, though. He was freaking out  _right now_ .

Even though Adam had warned him, Gansey had felt completely blindsided by how soft Adam’s lips on his were, by how much he liked the way Adam had played with his hair, long fingers pressing into the back of his skull delicately. He hadn’t been prepared to feel Adam press his body into him as much as the position would allow it, or for how much he wanted to pull Adam even closer, to lose himself in him in a way that was completely inappropriate for a) a public kiss and b) a strictly business relationship.

When Adam had pulled back, Gansey had worried he’d overstepped, being a little overenthusiastic in his kissing, and made a mental note to apologize afterwards. And then, he hadn’t even gotten the chance to do it before somehow getting into an argument with Adam and making him walk out on him. Again. 

It had been a hell of a morning.

Gansey hid in his room for the remaining hours until lunchtime, laying on the same bed he’d briefly shared with Adam and spent his free time trying to figure out how to salvage things with him. He could live with the idea of them not ever being  _friends_ (albeit with much heartache), but he still didn’t want things to be weird for their remaining time in D.C. Not because it might ruin their act, but because he didn’t want to make things more difficult than they needed to be for Adam.

Adam showed up at his room about fifteen minutes before lunch. He froze when he saw Gansey, but it only lasted for a second; soon, he was walking in and closing the door behind him, his expression carefully neutral.

“Your grandmother is here”, he said. Gansey grimaced.  _Great timing, Grandma._

“You don’t seem offended, so I’m guessing you haven’t had the chance to meet her.”

The shadow of a smile formed on Adam’s lips.

“I haven’t. But I’m looking forward to it.”

They went downstairs together, silently. On the last steps, Adam reached for Gansey’s hand, but didn’t look at him or squeeze it reassuringly like he’d done the other times, and Gansey felt his stomach twist in a knot so tight it made him wonder if he’d be able to eat lunch at all.

Introducing Adam to Grandma Gansey was as unpleasant as expected. Before Gansey even had the chance to say anything, she took a long look at Adam from head-to-toe, frowning, her nose crinkled in disapproval. 

“And who is that?”, she asked, in a tone that indicated Adam was something that had been dragged in by the cat and left mud stains all over the carpet. Which he had, but she had no way of knowing it.

“I’m Adam, ma’am”, Adam stepped forward, ready for one of those overenthusiastic hugs. “I’m Gansey’s boyfriend.”

Grandma took a step back, horrified by both the prospect of touching Adam and his words.

“His  _boyfriend?”_ She turned her sharp eyes to her grandson, and he tried not to flinch. “Well, well. I should’ve known, Dick. You were always a little… Strange.”

It was clear, from her expression, what  _strange_ meant, and it wasn’t a good thing. Gansey grit his teeth and swallowed down the curse words that came to his mind.

“Yes, Grandma”, he replied, defiantly. “I suppose I was.”

Adam laughed brightly, like he wasn’t offended in the least.

“Oh, Gansey here is quite the character, alright. I can see where he gets that from!”

Both Grandma and Gansey glared at him, but she was the one who spoke first:

“Not from me, certainly.”

For once, Gansey had to agree with her.

That wasn’t the only snarky observations his grandmother made; lunch was filled with side-eyed glances and jabs at Gansey’s “new lifestyle” and Adam’s behavior and looks in general. Adam seemed to weather it better than Gansey did, ignoring the ones he couldn’t think of a witty comeback to, and it was hard to tell which one of the responses annoyed Grandma the most. She had always hated when Gansey didn’t reply to her comments, but she’d also always told him not to talk back to her. 

After lunch, they had some time to get ready for church. Gansey’d been hoping it would be enough time to apologize for the argument he’d had with Adam earlier, since it was the first alone time they’d had since, but Adam didn’t seem interested in that. Instead, he asked about church. That part of his persona, he explained, was real; he’d never been to a Christmas service, and wasn’t sure of what was expected of him.

“I don’t know what  _you_ expect me to do, either”, he added. “I don’t know how much is too much for church.”

The question took Gansey by surprise. He wasn’t a devoted Christian, like Ronan and his siblings, who went to mass every Sunday. His parents had raised him to go to church only when the right people would be waiting for them to go, that is, only on important holidays that would make them  _look_ like they were devoted Christians, without having to actually put in the work. Gansey didn’t care about the possible morality issues with doing stuff during the service. The one thing he imagined would be too much was with Adam decided to heatedly make out with him on a church pew, and he highly doubted that  _that_ was going to happen.

Although, when you looked at it from the right angle, it might also be a good thing, if it happened. Gansey’s grandmother would be  _so_ pissed.

“I’m not sure”, Gansey admitted. “I think the whole, ah, hand holding might be a little scandalous, but not  _too_ scandalous? I, uh. I don’t know if I would push it much further?”

He didn’t mean for it to sound like a question, but Adam just nodded. He made a couple more questions about how to dress and left to get changed, leaving Gansey to lament how weird things had gotten between them. He’d come to like Adam, and was looking forward to having someone to make comments and laugh quietly with during the horribly boring service. The last time he’d had some fun at church was when Ronan had gone with him, and only because Ronan was Catholic, so he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to a Protestant service.

The fact Adam was being so  _professional_ about it somehow made Gansey feel even worse. He held Gansey’s hand all the way to the front door, only letting go of it when they got into the Camaro, because Gansey’s family was taking a separate car, so he didn’t have to pretend anymore. It was an awkward and quiet ride to the nearest church, and Gansey felt the silence weighing on him like a block concrete on his shoulders.

Adam took Gansey’s hand again as soon as they got out of the car, back to being cheery and romantic and calling him “baby” and “honey”, loud enough that everyone around them turned to look what was happening. It was a bit disturbing, how Adam could change personalities in the blink of an eye, as easily as most people changed clothes. Gansey wondered how long it had taken him to learn how to do that, and if it ever pained him to let go of his own self like this.

He had to admit it was very useful, though. The looks his parents’ friends gave them were priceless. Gansey didn’t think he’d ever shocked them that much, mostly because he’d always tried so hard not to. It was weirdly liberating to feel them judging him like that. It made him feel a little more like a real person, instead of like one of his parents’ projects, like he often felt.

His parents, of course, had noticed it too. Mrs. Gansey approached Gansey still smiling and leaned in to whisper-shout in his ear:

“Could you not do this here, dear?”

Adam didn’t give any indication of hearing it; he was busy chatting with Grandma, who seemed to be considering whether she could punch him in the face without breaking her arthritis-affected bones, while Helen watched intently. Gansey gave his mom the sterner look he could manage. He wasn’t used to reprimanding his parents.

“I’m not  _doing_ anything, Mother.”

Mrs. Gansey looked like she wanted to argue, but they had just walked inside and the Minister was waving at her, so she dropped it in favor of greeting him. Either way, it wasn’t like she was going to make a scene in front of all those people. Having a queer son was bad for the Ganseys’ public image, but getting caught being openly homophobic about it was even worst. 

Grandma followed her, and Adam surprised Gansey by turning to him and whispering:

“Okay?”

His mouth was so close to Gansey’s ear that Gansey could practically feel Adam’s lips moving. He swallowed hard.

“Yeah. My mom’s not too happy about it.”

“Which is good?”

Gansey nodded, and tried not feel disappointed when Adam pulled away. He was rewarded by Adam letting go of his hand and putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Alright, babe”, he said, in what Gansey was starting to think of as his Character Voice. “Let’s find our seats!”

Gansey’s family looked for all world like they would rather be seated anywhere  _but_ besides him and Adam, but they didn’t have the heart to shoo them away either. That worked great for Gansey. He got to piss off his parents,  _and_ have everyone see it, since they were all sitting on the front row of pews. 

Much to his despair, though, the service seemed to drag on as usual, in spite of how Adam did make comments sometimes – loud and obnoxious questions about the Bible stories mentioned in the sermon, mostly, that caused the people nearest to shoot him dirty looks and Grandma to shush him at least fifty times. It wasn’t the kind of commentary Gansey had been hoping for, though. It was acting, and Gansey wanted something between – well, between friends. The sort of effortless banter he’d have with Ronan, maybe, or at least the camaraderie he’d had with Adam when they had laughed about the broken plate.

No such luck. Gansey had to settle for how his parents seemed more annoyed by him than ever before, which was a small win, he supposed. He would much rather Adam was still talking to him. He would also rather if Adam kissed him again – for acting purposes, of course. Nothing would get to his grandma more than two guys kissing in church.

(Plus, Gansey just really, _really_ wanted to kiss Adam again. But he wasn’t going to admit that just yet.)

Something in him snapped when they got inside the car and Adam let go of his hand again, turning his head to face the window, serious and distant like he’d been on the drive to D.C. Irrationally, Gansey thought that this wasn’t right. They had been total strangers then, and they weren’t strangers now. Gansey had told him about his childhood and things he’d only ever talked about with Ronan before. He’d seen the soft look in Adam’s eyes right after he’d woken up, before he’d had the time to toughen up to face the day. They had  _kissed,_ for Christ’s sake. It might have been a fake platonic kiss, but it was kissing nonetheless, and Gansey felt unreasonably hurt that Adam could just act like none of that had happened, when Gansey himself couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Mr. Gansey’s car vanished from sight before Gansey started the engine on the Camaro. Instead of driving, he just sat there, staring at the wheel and trying to organize a coherent sentence in his mind. Him and Adam would get home long after his parents, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. They would probably think he was making out with Adam somewhere, anyway, which was good for their act. 

It took Adam a while to realize Gansey didn’t intend on moving. He turned to face him slowly, his expression careful.

“Gansey?”

There were several different questions contained in that one word –  _are you okay? Was it too much? Did I do something wrong? -_ and none of them were related to what was actually happening. Truth was, Gansey wanted to talk to Adam.  _Really_ talk to him, in a real conversation that didn’t revolve around keeping up appearances or discussing how they would keep up said appearances. It was hard to imagine this happening at his parents’ house. On the other hand, it was sort of hard to imagine Adam wanting to go anywhere with him, as it was.

So, he decided the car, in front of  _church,_ no less, was a good a place as any.

“I’m sorry”, he said. “About the watch. I really didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

Adam’s expression didn’t change drastically, but Gansey noticed the tightness of his lips, the way he squared his shoulders. He’d spent enough time around Ronan Lynch to know what people looked like when they were gearing up for a fight.

“I know”, Adam replied quietly. Gansey made a frustrated gesture with his hands. 

“Do you? Because it doesn’t feel like it.”

“What does it  _feel_ like to you?”

Gansey wasn’t very intimate with Adam Parrish. He’d only known him for a couple of days, during most of which they hadn’t even had real conversations. Yet, somehow he knew that Adam’s tone – wary and even, like the calm before a storm – wasn’t a good sign. He sighed, running a hand through his own hair.

“I just don’t understand. I’ve never have someone get angry at me for buying them a gift. It’s usually the opposite. People get mad because I  _didn’t_ get them anything.”

For a long second, Adam just stared at him, considering, his blue eyes distant and guarded. Gansey swallowed the million questions in his mind and waited. If Adam wanted to explain himself, he would do it out of his own will. Somehow, Gansey knew there was no point trying to push him. Gansey didn’t  _want_ to push him. He felt like he’d already done enough of that.

It seemed to take forever, but Adam finally broke the silence. He didn’t sound angry, just tired:

“Why did you get me a gift?” When Gansey opened his mouth, he raised a hand to stop him. “And don’t say it was for appearances. I can understand that. It would look weird if you didn’t buy a Christmas present for your boyfriend. I get it. But you actually expected me – no, you  _wanted_ me to keep it. Why?”

It was a weird question to Gansey. He had bought Adam a gift because he had the money for it, and because he liking giving things to people he cared about – which was really what Adam was confused about, wasn’t it? Gansey shouldn’t  _care_ about him – but he did, he realized, with very little surprise. As awkward and dumb as it was, he somehow ended up caring about this chameleon boy, with his icy stare and his Virginian accent and his ragged clothes.

Nothing indicated this was mutual, though. Maybe Adam didn’t care about Gansey at all, and that was why he was being so oblivious. The thought made Gansey’s heart ache, and he couldn’t bring himself to say any of this aloud. Instead, he said the next thing that came to his mind:

“I just thought you deserved something nice, that’s all.”

The answer seemed to catch Adam by surprise. He blinked, his expression unguarded for the first time since they’d gotten in the car. 

“So you decided to spend thousands of dollars on ‘something nice’ for me? Just like that?” He shook his head. “You shouldn’t have. Trust me, I’m not worth it.”

Seeing Adam Parrish, beautiful, gentle, smart  _Adam Parrish_ , say he wasn’t worthy of something made Gansey feel worse than their entire argument, but he only had a moment to dwell on it before his brain processed what the issue had been all along.

“Oh”, he said, dumbly. “So the problem is that I spent too much money on it?”

Adam shrugged, looking uncomfortable. He turned his eyes away from Gansey’s.

“Sort of. Like I said, you’re already paying me. If you really wanted to get me something, you could’ve gotten something a little simpler.”

“Simpler”, Gansey repeated. He wasn’t sure if he was following the conversation anymore.

“Yeah” Much to his surprise, a small smile formed on Adam’s lips, and he glanced at Gansey. When he spoke again, his tone was almost teasing: “Flowers would’ve been nice.”

Gansey looked outside. Most churchgoers were gone by now, and the churchyard was almost empty. There were a few withering bushes right before the entrance, most dead or dying, but – there. A splash of color that somehow had survived the winter cold. Blue, just like the ones Adam had been looking at in the greenhouse.

On an impulse, Gansey got out of the car, slammed the door shut behind him and started walking. He heard when Adam called him, confused, and then when he got out to follow him across the churchyard, but payed it no mind. By the time Adam reached him, Gansey had already leaned over and yanked a couple of small blue flowers from the bush.

“Gansey, what the fu-” Adam started, and the stopped dead on his tracks, mouth falling open, when Gansey turned around to offer the little bouquet to him. He looked from the flowers to Gansey’s face and back several times, seeming to be, at the same time, amused and alarmed. Finally, he settled for staring at Gansey like he had grown a second head. “Are you seriously giving me flowers right now?”

This got more looks from the few remaining churchgoers, but Gansey ignored them. He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment – he could see now that this was a foolish gesture, impulsive and cliché –, but he raised his chin and held still, refusing to back down out of pure stubbornness. Two could play at this game, he decided. If Adam could be stubborn about forgiving him, Gansey could be stubborn about asking for his forgiveness.

“Well, they’re nice”, he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “And I didn’t spend a dime on them. Is that better?”

For a horrifying moment, Adam’s expression was unreadable and Gansey really thought he was about to run away and never look back, and Gansey would never see him again. The idea made him so nauseous that his knees felt weak. He had already started to prepare another apology speech when Adam let out a shuddering breath and his expression softened, filled with something akin to fondness – or maybe it  _was_ fondness, but Gansey wouldn’t allow himself to believe that just yet. He couldn’t afford to get his hopes too high now.

“Yes, Gansey” Adam said, and his voice had wonder in it, like he’d just realized something about Gansey or himself or the blue flowers still between them. “That’s better.”

“Will you take them, then?”

Hesitantly, Adam reached out to take the flowers, his fingers brushing Gansey’s lightly and sending sparks flying down his arm. He kept staring at them in disbelief, like they were something rare and special, instead of common wildflowers that had been plucked out of some random churchyard on a whim.

“Thank you”, he said, in a soft tone Gansey hadn’t heard before.

_Thank YOU,_ Gansey wanted to say, but he wasn’t sure what he was thanking Adam for, so he just shrugged, suddenly feeling too shy to look Adam in the eye. He had to clean his throat a couple times before his voice agreed to work again.

“No big deal.” He looked at his own watch, covered by the sleeves of his jacket. “We should probably get going, huh?”

Adam seemed reluctant to agree, but he nodded, and they walked back to the car in a silence that lingered for most of the ride home. It was a completely different brand of silence from the ride to the church, though. This one was comfortable, companion, even. From the corner of his eye, Gansey could see Adam still looking at the flowers in his hand the whole way, and, when they parked and got outside, Adam took Gansey’s hand, even though there was no one watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest chapter I have ever written for anything in my life, including full novels lmao hope it's as enjoyable for people reading it as it was for me writing it.  
> Aaaanyway, next chapter also happens during the 25th, so I will probably post it at some point later today.


	4. baby, let's do Christmas right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. Again.
> 
> CW: Adam's dad is talked about a lot more in this one. Nothing too explicit, though, and I promise this is a happy one. It IS a Christmas fic, after all.
> 
> Chapter title taken from "Under The Mistletoe", by Dia Frampton and Never Shout Never.

That afternoon, they spent some time together because they wanted to, not because they were expected to. It was a surprise to Adam, and it seemed to be a surprise to Gansey, too, judging by the glances filled with wonder he kept throwing Adam’s way.

The other Ganseys were downstairs, scattered across the living room, and there was a steady influx of friends and colleagues coming in and out to greet them, so Adam and Gansey had hidden in Gansey’s room. For whatever reason, it felt more intimate than being in his car or in the greenhouse, but Adam tried not to think too much about it. Instead, he put some distance between Gansey, who was sitting at the edge of the bed, and himself, who was walking around the room, looking closely at the maps covering the walls. 

He stopped in front of a US map marked with red and blue dots connected by green lines. There seemed to be some method to Gansey’s madness, even if Adam couldn’t understand his system for the life of him.

“Have you been to all of those places?”, Adam asked. He didn’t turn around to look at Gansey, but he could imagine him shrugging.

“To most of them, yes. The red ones are where I’ve been; the blue ones are where I want to go.”

There was a lot more red than blue on this particular map. Adam stared at it in amazement, and also jealousy. He tried to imagine what it was like to be Gansey, free and rich enough to go wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and to throw this fact around so carelessly. The first time Adam had left Henrietta, Virginia, was to go to college, and somehow he still ended up back there every holiday and vacation – mostly because of Blue, partly because a part of him missed it terribly, against all odds. 

“Why’d you stop at Henrietta?” He gestured towards the map. “You told me you’ve been living there for a few years. If you could go to any of those places, why the middle of nowhere in Virginia? Why not, I don’t know” Adam’s eyes landed on a random blue dot. “The middle of nowhere in Wyoming, or Arkansas? Or somewhere actually decent, like New York or LA?”

He knew it was too many questions, but he couldn’t stop himself, and Gansey didn’t seem upset.

“Henrietta has its own charm. Plus, my friend Ronan lives around there, and it is – well, it’s close enough to home, I suppose that helps.”

“Doesn’t seem like you enjoy coming home all that much.”

Gansey laughed, a surprised and almost embarrassed sound.

“God, you must think I’m a terrible son.” Before Adam could say that this wasn’t it, he continued: “I like coming home. I love my family, and I quite like D.C., too. I don’t come over as much as I probably should, all things considered – my mother is constantly telling me that, and I suppose she’s right. But it’s not that I don’t  _enjoy_ it, per say. I get busy, that’s all.”

“I wouldn’t think you’re a terrible son for not enjoying it”, Adam said, quietly. _I haven’t been home in over five years._ But he didn’t say that.

He heard Gansey take a sharp breath behind him, and, after a moment of hesitation, say:

“You told me I could ask you a question. In the greenhouse.”

Adam wondered if Gansey could tell how tense his shoulders were just from looking. Probably.

“I did. Also said I might not answer you.”

“Right. Right, of course” Even without looking at Gansey, Adam could imagine his expression: eager and earnest, like he was scolding himself for going too fast. It was weird, how fast he’d grown familiar with Gansey’s reactions. “Can I still ask it, though?”

Adam hesitated for a moment too long before nodding once, his whole body rigid with tension. Rationally, he knew he could always lie. Make up a character, like he’d been doing this whole time, or flat out lie or change the subject. It came easily to him – he liked to pretend it was because of the job, but truth was, Adam had always been a liar in many different ways –, and Gansey would never find out. He didn’t think Gansey would push it either, if Adam didn’t want to answer.

Here’s the thing, though – Adam didn’t want to lie. He did it so often it was becoming tiresome, draining, like the mask on his face was finally becoming too heavy. And, for whatever reason, it was easier to take it off around Gansey than it had been around anyone else in ages, with the exception of Blue. So, Adam decided that he would try to be as honest as he could in his answer, for both Gansey’s and his own sake.

This proved to be too hasty of a decision, because Gansey’s question was the last one Adam wanted to answer to.

“Why don’t you go home for Christmas?”

Adam’s breath caught in his throat, and it took a great effort for him not to choke. It was a good thing he wasn’t facing Gansey; otherwise, the shocked, hurt expression on his face would give away too much, too quickly. Like this, at least he had a moment to compose himself. A moment to find his voice again so he could tell Gansey he wasn’t going to get an answer to his question, after all, Adam had said he’d reserved his right not to reply, he couldn’t discuss  _that,_ it surely wasn’t even something  _Gansey_ would want to discuss, Gansey was probably expecting some regular family drama, something simple, not the shitshow that actually-

Apparently, Gansey could read Adam well enough without looking at his face, too. When Adam didn’t reply immediately, he quickly added, voice heavy with regret and concern:

“I’m sorry I… God, Adam, I’m so sorry I asked. It’s none of my business, and I can tell this is a hard subject for you, I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have. I didn’t have the right to. Just forget about it, yeah?”

Weirdly enough, Adam believed him. He believed Gansey was truly sorry, and that he would have let it go as soon as Adam said the word. Just like he’d believed Gansey earlier, when he’d apologized and explained the reasons behind his overpriced gift. It was stupid, really. He’d known this man all of four days, and he didn’t feel like it’d been longer. He felt like it had only been four days, and four days had been more than enough to teach him everything he needed to know about Richard Campbell Gansey the III.

Adam thought about the blue flowers tucked away safely inside his notebook, in his backpack. He thought of Gansey’s expression when he’d offered them to him, so open and vulnerable and trusting, and of the way Gansey had squeezed his hand during breakfast that morning, of how he was willing to stay outside the room and wait for Adam to finish processing whatever he was processing inside. He took a deep breath, hid his trembling hands inside his pockets, and started speaking.

“I’ve never had a home, not in the sense you have” His voice was steady, alien to his own ears, like he’d practiced this speech in front of a mirror. “You’ve probably guessed by now that everything I said was breakfast was false. There was no family reunion, no opening of presents, nothing like that. Christmas was never a good time of the year for me.”

Adam paused, partly to force his emotions and memories back under control, partly to see if Gansey would press on. He didn’t, and Adam’s chest felt tight and close to bursting. He focused on the map in front of him, eyes darting from one dot to another, planning his imaginary escape route. His hand touched his left ear, automatically, without him noticing it consciously.

“Did I ever mention I can’t hear out of this ear?”, he asked.

“I don’t think so”, Gansey replied, carefully. 

“Well, I can’t.” Adam inhaled shakily through his mouth, exhaled through his nose, once, twice, enough times for his heart to stop trying to shatter his rib cage and fall out of his chest onto the carpet. Once he started talking again, he couldn’t stop: “The last time I was home for Christmas was when I was eighteen, and my dad beat me up so badly I lost all the hearing on my left ear. I don’t know why. I never did. There was always something I’d said, or something I’d done, or something he’d drunk, or- well. You get the drill. On Christmas, it was sometimes about the presents we’d gotten each other or the ones we hadn’t. Maybe that’s what happened. Maybe it was something else entirely. What I do know is that  _this_ ” He gestured around his ear. His breathing was fast and shallow, memories rolling around in his brain like waves onto the sand, threatening to drown him. “happened, and I packed a bag and went to my friend’s place, and I never went back again. Not for the rest of my things, not for the summer, and certainly not for Christmas.”

A heavy silence fell over the room, broken only by Adam’s heavy breathing. Adam didn’t mind; it gave him more time to put himself back together, to build back up the dam that kept the flood of memories away. His left temple hurt, ghost pain that never really went away, no matter how much progress Adam made at leaving the past behind. 

He was startled by Gansey’s voice:

“Adam…”

He trailed off, uncertain, and Adam started to realize just how much he’d spoken, just how much of himself he had exposed to that almost stranger.

“I’m sorry”, he said. His accent was thicker than usual, a telltale sign of his lack of composure. “I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear, I…”

“Adam”, Gansey said again, and this time he sounded closer. A few steps behind Adam, and to his right – where he would be heard the best. Adam didn’t turn around. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for asking, but mostly I’m so sorry you had to go through all that-”

“Don’t”, Adam snapped. He knew he shouldn’t, but it was hard taking pity from someone else, even years later. He’d have enough of the “sorry” and pitiful stares the day he’d showed up at Blue’s house to tell her what happened and all of her moms had looked at him like some poor stray dog. Adam tried to get his voice back under control. “You didn’t do anything. You have no reason to apologize.”

“I’m still sorry”, Gansey said, matter-of-factly. “For whatever that’s worth, and I know it isn’t worth much.”

Before he could think too much about it, Adam whipped around to look at him. Gansey was a lot closer than he was expecting, close enough to touch, and his expression was so open that all the fight in Adam died at the sight. Once again, he believed Gansey. He believed that Gansey was sorry, and that he wished that his being sorry could be worth more. 

Adam should’ve thanked him for his compassion. He knew that. Instead, he admitted:

“This might’ve been one of the best Christmases I’ve had in a while.”

Oh, Blue would’ve been  _so_ mad at him. Adam hoped she could understand how hard it was to think straight when a good looking, good hearted guy was standing so close to him. Had he gotten closer? Had  _Adam_ gotten closer to  _Gansey_ ? He hadn’t noticed himself doing it, but it seemed possible. Gansey had that kind of magnetic field that could do that to a person. Insofar, Adam had believed he was immune to it. How foolish he had been.

Now, Gansey looked as surprised as Adam felt.

“I’m… Glad to hear it?” It probably wasn’t supposed to sound like a question. “I know it’s not exactly traditional, but I suppose having a job to do helps take your mind off of things.”

Adam shrugged. This time, the decision to take a step forward was conscious. This time, the flutter in his chest was anticipation.

“It does, but that’s not what I meant.”

The comment seemed to take Gansey by surprise. He blinked once, twice, then said, with a smile:

“Well, the food  _was_ very good.”

Adam couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him.

“It was. So was breaking that plate, yesterday. And your parents’ reaction at breakfast. And your grandmother’s face at church” He raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “And the flowers. Of course.”

“And kissing you”, Gansey added, voice hushed, like he hadn’t meant for Adam to hear it.

Adam had heard it loud and clear. He leaned in slightly, less than an inch, afraid of moving too fast and ruining this. 

“Yeah?”

Gansey nodded, shakily, and Adam could see him leaning in, too. He could see the scene unfolding in his mind, could already feel the exact moment one of them – impossible to tell who – would take that final step, close those finals inches between their faces and smash their lips together. And this was very unprofessional of Adam, he knew, but he also  _wanted,_ with an intensity he hadn’t felt for anything in a while. Adam Parrish was a man starving by nature, but he’d never been  _hungrier._

And then- the moment passed. Gansey jerked his head back suddenly, looking like he’d just been startled awake after a minute of sleepwalking.

“I’m sorry”, he blurted out, and this time it lacked the solemnity from before; he wasn’t sorry as much as he was reprimanding himself. “God, Adam, I didn’t meant to overstep. I… Jesus. I’ve got to get my head straight.”

Adam watched, silent, as he walked away, back to the bed, sitting down on the mattress and running his hands through his hair. He looked like the Gansey from that morning, when he’d laid with Adam so careful not to touch him, not to make him uncomfortable. Adam had to admit that, as much as being kissed would’ve been better, he still liked that Gansey a lot.

“It’s alright”, he said, managing to sound only a little disappointed. Gansey shook his head.

“I know what you said. No touching, no… This.”

“That is not what I said” The difference was small, and, either way, it didn’t matter – Adam had lost his window of stupid courage, and was back to being rational, which meant second-guessing. It was unprofessional to harbor such fantasies about Gansey’s lips on his, and frankly, it looked like a great way to get something broken, be it his heart or his actual bones. There was a reason, after all, why Adam didn’t hook up with costumers. Instead of trying to get the moment back, he said: “I know you didn’t mean it like that.”

Gansey exhaled slowly, like he’d been holding his breath.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing” Adam meant to chastise him, but he couldn’t help but smile, and the reprimand lost some of its power because of it. “I said it’s fine. Let’s not get all weird again, okay? That makes my job remarkably harder.”

He felt a pang of relief when Gansey smiled back, but also a wave of disappointment for the idea of just pretending that weird moment before Gansey stepped back hadn’t happened.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to ruin your perfect Christmas”, Gansey said, tone teasing. 

“Who said anything about  _perfect_ ? Your grandmother was super mean to me.”

“Ah, yes, that’s good ol’ grandma. Don’t worry, it’s not personal. She’s been making a point of being mean to everybody for at least sixteen years.”

After that, it was easy to go back to the pattern they’d established for themselves in the past few days, the light topics of conversation and casual talks, like Gansey wasn’t glancing at Adam’s lips every few minutes and Adam wasn’t making a point of not looking at Gansey’s lips once. Adam got to hear gossip about the Ganseys and embarrassing high school stories, and other not-so-embarrassing stories about Gansey’s travels. Gansey asked Adam where he would go, if he could go anywhere, and Adam didn’t overthink his answer. It was nice. It reminded Adam of nights spent at Blue’s house, the two of them laying side by side on her narrow bed, making plans for a better future where they finally left Henrietta and were free to be themselves. 

Except Adam and Gansey weren’t making plans, and they weren’t laying in bed, and they were very deliberately staying physically away from each other. But still. Nice enough Adam could forget he was on the clock for a bit, at least. He was rudely reminded of it by Helen throwing the door open unceremoniously to remind them to go downstairs for dinner. There wasn’t enough time for a fake make-out session; all Adam managed to do was throw himself down hastily on Gansey’s lap again, back to his chest, making Gansey yelp in surprise.

Helen raised an eyebrow at the sight. She didn’t seem half as surprised as she’d been at the greenhouse, but it was hard to tell if it was because their position was less compromising this time or because she had braced herself before.

“Good God, you two”, she said, not exactly disapprovingly.

Gansey cleared his throat. His hands had come to rest on Adam’s hips by instinct, and Adam was trying not to pay too much attention to the heat irradiating from him.

“Would it kill you to knock for once, Helen?

Helen just looked unimpressed. Adam suspected she would’ve rolled her eyes, if the gesture wasn’t too undignified for a Gansey.

“Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes. Finish whatever  _this_ ” She gestured towards Adam. “is and come downstairs with  _clean_ clothes, please.”

She left before either of them could reply, and Adam was up and away from Gansey the second the door shut behind her. Gansey looked confused, but didn’t comment.

“Sorry I didn’t warn you”, Adam said. “But you could’ve…”

“Pinched you, I know” Was Gansey blushing? Adam sure wanted to believe so. “Yeah. It’s okay. I was sort of expecting it this time.”

Adam hummed, amused.

“I think I can only throw myself on top of you so many times before it becomes predictable, huh?”

“I’m not complaining”, Gansey said, and then seemed mortified for having said it. Out of respect for their newfound friendship, Adam didn’t comment on it. “We should, uh, get ready for dinner, or Grandma might decide to come get us herself.”

Adam shuddered.

“That would be a disaster.”

Dinner was uneventful, compared to breakfast and lunch. Either the Ganseys had grown used to Adam and started to like him, or they had resigned themselves to putting up with him politely until the next morning; no one made jabbing comments at him or looked alarm by his apparent lack of manners, and Mr. Gansey even tried to maintain a casual conversation, asking him what he’d thought of their Christmas. He didn’t ask about Adam’s family again, clearly having noticed the debacle at breakfast.

Under other circumstances, Adam might have found something to criticize out loud about the food or the traditions or church; it was something that would annoy most people, coming from a guest, and his job  _was_ to be annoying, after all. But he liked watching the Ganseys get annoyed and having to act like they weren’t, and annoyance at rude comments from guests was justified enough for even them to show some of it. So, instead, he opted for the truth, phrased in a way he knew would horrify them:

“I could get used to it. Wouldn’t mind making it a yearly tradition!”

Mr. Gansey’s smile remained frozen on his face in a way that was very unnatural, and Adam didn’t miss Mrs. Gansey’s horrified expression at the idea of having Adam over for Christmas every year. He felt a surge of satisfaction from it, but what really did it for him was the bright smile Gansey flashed him, looking almost proud and excited and so familiar, almost like wouldn’t mind making this a yearly tradition, either. 

***

Adam and Gansey were quiet when they went back to Gansey’s bedroom later. It was a comfortable silence, amicable, but it also felt heavy with something – anticipation, Gansey thought, or maybe expectation, although he wasn’t sure what for. It was the good kind, that gave him butterflies in his stomach, and he wondered if Adam could feel it too. Maybe it was all in his head. Something told him otherwise, though. He kept replaying their conversation from earlier in that afternoon in his head, analyzing the way Adam had leaned towards him before Gansey had lost his nerve and pulled back, and oscillating between deciding he couldn’t have imagined it and believing he was only seeing what he wanted to see. Somehow, Gansey knew that he was about to find out which one was right.

Adam went to the bathroom to get changed, as usual, and when he came back, Gansey was already settling on his makeshift bed on the floor, trying to organize the pillows and blankets in a way that wouldn’t hurt his back too much. Adam looked as surprised by it as he’d been on the first night. He stood next to the bed, blinking down at Gansey slowly, while Gansey gave him an awkward smile.

“Lock the door, would you?”, he reminded him. 

Adam’s brow furrowed, but he complied. Gansey watched as he walked back to the door and turned the key, and then stayed there, his back to the room, one hand resting on the door, head bowed and shoulders tense. In the past few days, Gansey had gained enough knowledge of Adam – the  _real_ Adam – to know what that meant: he was debating something internally, weighing his options. However, he didn’t know Adam well enough to guess what the “something” was, and it was driving him insane. 

Gansey considered calling Adam’s name, but remained silent. He didn’t want to intrude. Most importantly, he didn’t want to push. That seemed to be the most important thing in a relationship of any nature with Adam Parrish: boundaries. Space. Letting Adam know that he had the freewill to call the shots and make his own decisions. And, in all honesty, Gansey was more than okay with that. He was used to having power, but he wanted it to be different with Adam. He wanted  _everything_ to be different with Adam.

A century seemed to have passed when the tension in Adam’s shoulders bled out and he turned around. Gansey expected him to turn off the lights, say goodnight and get in bed; instead, Adam took a step forward, offered Gansey a hand and said, hesitantly:

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

It was Gansey’s turn to stare up at him, wordlessly. In his head, he heard an echo of Adam’s voice earlier that morning; it felt like it had happened in a different lifetime.  _Come to bed, Gansey._ But it hadn’t been like that, then. It had been a job, an obligation. It hadn’t been Adam looking at him so earnestly, intimately, actually _wanting_ Gansey in bed with him. Gansey didn’t dare believing it could be like that now.

“Oh”, was all he managed to say. He was still wearing his glasses, so he saw the way Adam’s back straightened very clearly. 

“Nevermind. If you don’t want to, I-”

“No!” It came out louder than Gansey had planned, and he blushed when Adam quirked an eyebrow at him. As usual, he started rambling: “I mean – no, that’s not it. I absolutely want to. I mean. I. Yeah. If it doesn’t make you uncomfortable?”

Adam seemed amused by his eagerness, which was mildly embarrassing, but it was also better than the tense look from before. 

“If it did, I wouldn’t have said anything.”

“Right.” God, Gansey felt so stupid. “I- yeah, I’ll take you up on that, then.”

He managed not to slip on any pillow or blanket while scrambling to his feet under Adam’s gaze. For a moment, they just stood there, staring at each other, both too afraid of taking the next step. In Gansey’s case, he didn’t  _know_ what the next step was supposed to be. There was laying on the bed, but after that, there were many ways things could go. The most obvious one was them laying side by side, like friends, not touching each other, then saying goodnight and calling it a night.

Gansey didn’t want that. He wanted the least expected, less likely ending for a very unexpected, unlikely day.

And he’d probably have to take action for that to happen. So, Gansey was the one to break the silence, gesturing towards the door again.

“Should we unlock it, or…?”

This was important. It had occurred to Gansey that maybe this  _was_ still part of the job to Adam, even if his official work schedule would end in the morning. Maybe he had a plan to finish their act with a bang by being caught together in bed by the other Ganseys. Which Gansey wouldn’t think of as  _bad,_ exactly, but it still wasn’t what he wanted.

But Adam just shook his head. He didn’t say anything, but the emotion in his eyes was something akin to nervousness, something Gansey hadn’t quite seen on him before. Anxiety, yes, and anger, and excitement, and even fear – those, he’d seen. But this was different from all that.

It was anticipation, Gansey realized, with a sudden hope that was almost painful. Expectation, not that far from Gansey’s own eagerness.

“Okay, then”, he said. Adam still didn’t move, so he pointed to the bed. “Go on. I’ll get the lights.”

He waited until Adam was comfortable settled on the mattress before flicking the switch. The darkness somehow made the knot in his stomach feel tighter and looser at the same time. He hit his knee on the desk on his way to the bed, and heard Adam chuckle quietly at the sound of him cursing. 

Gansey was careful not to touch Adam when he climbed onto the mattress, keeping what he imagined to be a safe distance between them even when he finally laid down. This meant he was almost falling off the edge of the bed, but as long as Adam was comfortable, he didn’t mind. 

He took of his glasses and set them on the bedside table, then hesitated. His first impulse was to turn on his side so he could face Adam, but Gansey had no idea if that would seem too weird or not. That morning, he’d been too sleepy to worry about it for too long, but he remembered that Adam had been facing him, so maybe it was okay to do that. Maybe. 

Before he could make a decision, Adam’s voice floated to him in the dark:

“Are you tired?”

It had been a long day, but all Gansey could think of was how easy it would be to touch Adam like this, to grab his hand or throw an arm around him and pull him close. He replied with the truth:

“I don’t think I could sleep right now.”

“Me neither.”

Gansey waited for Adam to elaborate, but he didn’t. He didn’t know what to say either, and the room fell silent again. Slowly, Gansey turned to his side. The moonlight filtering through the curtains was just enough for him to be able to see Adam, only a few inches away, also laying on his side, with his back to the wall and facing Gansey, like he’d been that morning. Their eyes met in the dark, and Gansey couldn’t look away. Adam Parrish was very hard to read at any moment. Right now, it seemed like an impossible task. So Gansey just stared at him, trying to communicate telepathically.  _I am here. I am right here. Talk to me._ He could hear his own heart pounding in his ears.

The silence stretched out for a couple more beats, then Adam and Gansey started talking at the same time.

“Today was-”

“Would it be okay if I-”

They stopped. Gansey smiled awkward, and Adam said:

“Sorry. You go.”

“No, it’s alright”, Gansey replied. He didn’t really know what he’d been about to say, anyway. “You go.”

Adam shuffled closer, and Gansey’s mouth suddenly felt very dry. He held his breath when Adam raised a hand, hesitantly, and closed his eyes when Adam’s fingers traced his features, gently, the touch almost too light to feel: starting on his forehead, over his eyelids, down the bridge of his nose, around the shape of his lips. Gansey wanted to kiss those fingers, take them into his mouth, maybe, but he didn’t dare move. 

“I”, Adam started, sounding nervous, then stopped. After what seemed like an eternity, he said: “Pinch me if you want me off.”

Gansey didn’t pinch him. Instead, he held perfectly still, eyes still closed, as Adam leaned in and kissed him.

It felt like a first kiss. He knew it was stupid to think this, because he’d kissed Adam before, but this was so different from their exaggerated make-out session in the living room that Gansey couldn’t help it. This time, there was no one else to see it. It was private, intimate,  _real_ in a way it hadn’t been before. It was  _so much better._

Most importantly, this time, Adam didn’t have any reason to do it, other than that he wanted to. He was leaning over Gansey like that because he wanted to, and he was licking into Gansey’s mouth because he wanted to, and he was biting Gansey’s lip playfully because he wanted to. Even when he rolled over so he could be on top of Gansey, straddling his hips – that was also because he wanted to. Adam Parrish, the  _real,_ beautiful, gentle, smart, Adam Parrish, wanted him, and Gansey was dizzy with the power of being wanted by someone like that. He was afraid of ruining it by going too fast, so his hands curled in the soft fabric of Adam’s sleeping shirt, keeping him close, but not pulling him any closer.

Adam stopped kissing him (much too soon, in Gansey’s humble opinion) and let out a small laugh, his forehead resting on Gansey’s collarbone.

“You didn’t pinch me”, he said, with what sounded like poorly concealed relief.

“Of course not!” Gansey replied, outraged by the mere possibility. “Why would I do that?” Adam didn’t reply, but Gansey could feel him shaking his head. “I thought- well, if anything, I thought you would’ve pinched  _me_ by now.”

“I’m always the one throwing myself at you”, Adam pointed out.

“Well, I suppose. But that’s just your job.”

At this, Adam straightened so he could face Gansey properly. His expression, as far as Gansey could see in the dark, was serious and concerned.

“This isn’t my job”, he said. His accent was back in full force, which only made Gansey all the more desperate to put his hands back on him. “I told you, you’re not paying me for that.”

“I know.” Gansey hesitated, not knowing exactly what to say next. “This is… Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” The lack of hesitation was what did it for Gansey. He let his hands fall to Adam’s hips, and Adam smiled at him, a private, small thing. “I want you to know this isn’t a habit of mine. Making out with my fake boyfriends, I mean.”

Gansey laughed, more out of nerves than anything.

“I figured as much. I’m special, then?”

Suddenly, Adam’s face was very serious, and very close.

“You have no idea”, he murmured, before leaning in to kiss Gansey again.

Adam didn’t seem to mind that Gansey’s hands tightened automatically on his hips; he was too busy kissing Gansey like his life depended on it, like he’d been waiting for an eternity to do so, and Gansey briefly wondered if Adam had thought about their kiss that morning throughout the day, if he’d been wanting to do it again since, too. It was such a wild concept. It made him upset at himself for losing so much time  _not_ making out with Adam Parrish on his bed.

Gansey gasped a little too loudly when Adam’s mouth left his to move to his jaw, kissing and nipping and sucking on his way down to his neck. When Adam bit down gently on his pulse point, Gansey couldn’t help the small noise that escaped him, or the hand that shot up to press down on the back of Adam’s neck, holding him there until he bit harder and then softened the sharp pain by tracing his tongue over the spot, making Gansey whimper.

“Is that why you wanted to make out with me?”, Adam asked, voice low and close to Gansey’s ear, which made him shiver. “Because you wanted a hickey to prove to your parents you have a  _real_ boyfriend?”

Immediately, Gansey held Adam’s face in both hands to pull it back, so that Adam could see his expression.

“This is not why I’m doing this”, he said, frantically. “I would never- this is real, I promise, I-”

Adam raised an eyebrow, and it suddenly became very clear he was trying to contain a laugh. Gansey scowling at him was the last straw, apparently, but Gansey didn’t mind being laughed at if the laugh sounded that good.

“...you were messing with me”, he concluded.

“Yeah”, Adam agreed. His eyes trailed down to Gansey’s neck, where a red bruise was probably blooming now, and his expression darkened with lust. “Can’t say I’d mind doing you that favor, though.”

Gansey didn’t mind either, and he made sure of letting Adam know as much.

Much later that night, they fell asleep curled together on the bed, in the way that they probably should’ve been that morning when Mr. Gansey had seen them. It was better to do it knowing it was out of their own will, though, Gansey decided. They hadn’t made any promises, but he was pretty optimistic that, if he played his cards right, his fake boyfriend just might become a real one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of wanted to write some smut in this one, but I didn't want the fic to be rated explicit so... I'm considering writing it anyway and posting it separately tho so lmk if you'd have any interest in that lmao


	5. all I want for Christmas is a kiss under the mistletoe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe I almost forgot to post the last one!! This is more of an epilogue of sorts, but yeah.
> 
> Chapter title taken, once again, from "Under The Mistletoe" by Dia Frampton and Never Shout Never.

Waking up with someone in bed next to him wasn’t a new experience for Adam. He’d shared beds with flings and one night stands and even previous costumers, and him and Blue had fallen asleep next to each other more times than he could count, in her bedroom or on her couch or in Adam’s narrow dorm bed. He’d cuddled with Blue, even, although that wasn’t their usual setup, because Blue stole the blankets and Adam (allegedly) kicked in his sleep.

But, somehow, waking up with Gansey’s arm around his waist and Gansey’s head resting on his chest felt different. It seemed… more intimate, that was the word, although Adam wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. Sure, they’d been pretty  _intimate_ the night before, but he didn’t think that was it. This was a different brand of intimacy, something that came from the feeling of knowing and being known. Which was silly, because they hadn’t known each other for that long, and thus could not know each other that well. It was what it felt like, though, and Adam was starting to realize that, when it came to Gansey, his feelings tended to overpower his reason.

It seemed to be pretty early, so Adam tried to remain as still as possible to prevent from jostling Gansey. He slept with his mouth open, drooling a little over Adam’s sleep shirt; it shouldn’t have been cute, and yet it was. He looked younger, softer, and Adam couldn’t contain the urge to stroke his hair softly while trying to not fixate on the fact he’d just broken his personal rule of not really sleeping with people he was only fake dating. 

It was a difficult task, but Adam found he didn’t regret anything. His work was almost done, anyway – they’d be going back to Henrietta after breakfast –, and Gansey didn’t  _have_ to stay a fake boyfriend forever, if Adam didn’t want him to. After they left the Ganseys’ house, there were two ways things could go: they would either say goodbye and go their separate ways and go back to being strangers, or they could go on a real date and move on to be something else. Judging by what had happened the night before, Adam was pretty sure they were leaning towards the second option. 

In his arms, Gansey made a soft sound and shuffled a little. Adam froze, but Gansey was already awake, blinking up hazily at Adam. He probably couldn’t see him very well without his glasses.

“Hi”, he said, and his smile was hesitant in a way that made Adam want to kiss it, to reassure him. So he did, and, much to his delight, Gansey kissed back after a second of hesitation, not seeming to mind his morning breath.

“Hello there”, Adam said, with a very un-Adam chuckle. He couldn’t help it; he felt so  _satisfied,_ in a way it was hard to come by.

“I was half expecting to wake up on the floor”, Gansey admitted, shyly. Adam quirked an eyebrow.

“You thought I was going to kick you off the bed or something?”

“I thought maybe yesterday had been a dream” Gansey paused. “And, yes, I imagined that, if you changed your mind, you  _could_ kick me off the bed.”

Adam laughed, and Gansey smiled brightly. He turned his head a little, enough for Adam to see the dark purple bruises on his neck and shiver at the memory of leaving them there. Without thinking about it, he pressed a finger into one of them, gently. Gansey shuddered, but didn’t stop him.

“Whoops”, Adam murmured, with no remorse at all.

“You did this on purpose”, Gansey accused. Adam shrugged.

“Yeah. You wanted me to, though. Your family’s gonna freak out.”

Now would be a good moment for one of the other Ganseys to barge in, but the door remained locked since last night, so Adam wasn’t too worried about it.

“There’s no way Helen won’t believe me now”, Gansey agreed. Then, quickly, he added: “Not that I care. At this point, I mean, truly, I meant what I said last night, about…”

“Gansey. I think we’re past this, yeah?”

Gansey seemed a little surprised. His mouth opened and closed several times like a fish’s before he finally spoke:

“I suppose so. Also, you’re almost off the clock now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah. Almost.”

“Oh.” Gansey hesitated for a second. “Does that mean I can’t ask you out on a real date yet?”

This time, Adam raised both eyebrows at him.

“Are you seriously waiting til I’m officially ‘off the clock’ to ask?”

“Well, I don’t- it feels creepy to do it while you’re technically  _working_ for me, okay?” It was adorable, really, how outraged Gansey sounded. He got over that pretty quickly, though. “But fine. If you insist. Do you want to go on a real date with me?”

The easy answer was yes, Adam would love to go on a real date with Gansey. However, Adam felt like Gansey was used to getting what he wanted easily. He wanted to make him work for it. So, he smiled sweetly and replied:

“Ask me again when I’m off the clock.”

Gansey groaned, hiding his face in Adam’s neck, his huff of outrage tickling Adam’s skin.

“And when would that be?”

“When we’re back to Henrietta”, Adam offered. Gansey whined.

“Fine. Jesus.”

They had a couple hours to be lazy and domestic before they had to go downstairs for breakfast, although a part of it was spent packing their bags. This time, when it was finally time for them to rejoin the rest of the family, Adam changed in the bedroom, under Gansey’s poorly disguised stare, and didn’t hesitate before putting an arm around Gansey’s waist and a hand in his back pocket on their way to the dinning room.

***

The expression on Helen’s face when she saw the state of Gansey’s neck was priceless. Mr. and Mrs. Gansey were politely shocked, in a way that indicated that the shock was mostly due to disbelief in their audacity rather than due to real surprise, but Helen seemed completely blindsided; apparently, she had meant it when she’d said she didn’t believe in Gansey and Adam’s relationship. 

That seemed to have changed now, much to Gansey’s delight. When she sat besides him at the table, Helen leaned in to murmur:

“Well done, Dick. Seems like your web of lies paid off.”

“Shut up”, Gansey shot back, without much heat. He was too distracted by Adam’s hand on his knee under the table, and the sound of his voice, cheery and too loud. He had slipped into his character as soon as they’d walked out, but it wasn’t as disturbing now that Gansey knew that, as soon as they were alone, Adam would go back to being himself.

“I told you to try not to kill Mother”, Helen continued, nodding towards where Mrs. Gansey was trying not to stare at her son’s bruised skin. Fortunately, Grandma Gansey hadn’t stayed the night.

“And I told  _you_ I was bringing my boyfriend over, and you didn’t believe me”, Gansey observed. Adam seemed to have listened to him, because he threw an arm around Gansey’s shoulder and gave Helen a self satisfied smile that couldn’t have been fake.

“I know, I know”, he said brightly. “To Gansey’s credit, he told me to take it easy, but I just couldn’t, could I, babe?” He stroked Gansey’s neck tenderly, and Gansey had to suppress a very embarrassing noise, which, judging by Adam’s grin, didn’t go unnoticed. He turned back to Helen, eyes wide. “I hope you didn’t hear anything? Gansey here can get pretty vocal about his needs, if you know what I mean…”

He finalized it with a wink, and, even though Gansey’s face was burning, the way Helen’s eyes went wide made it worth it. The teasing was even better now, Gansey realized, simply because it wasn’t a lie anymore. Adam had done to Gansey exactly what it looked like he’d done, and, since not even Gansey could deny it, there was no reason his family could do it, either.

“I didn’t hear anything”, said Helen calmly, after a moment. It was a quick recovery from the shock, Gansey would give her that much. “But thanks for your concern, I suppose.”

From across the table, Mr. Gansey cleaned his throat.

“So”, he said, in a very obvious attempt to change the subject. “Has anyone read the news this morning?”

Gansey glanced at Adam, who seemed more satisfied than ever. When he caught Gansey looking, he winked at him.

They hit the road not long after this. Goodbyes tended to be messy and tearful in most families, but not for the Ganseys; they took turns hugging Gansey and shaking Adam’s hand, organized by age, and respected each other’s turns of making recommendations like “drive carefully” and “have a safe trip”. Gansey promised to call later, and Adam, holding his recently acquired flowerpot in one hand and his tattered backpack on the other, turned to give the Ganseys a bright smile over his shoulder on his way to the car.

“See you next year!”, he yelled, louder than it was necessary. Both Mr. and Mrs. Gansey seemed mortified by the perspective, but Helen’s smile seemed genuine, at least, even if it was just for the prospect of having more drama to absorb.

The drive back to Henrietta was nothing like the one to D.C. Adam was still smiling when they got in the car, and Gansey realized that this wasn’t fake – he was actually happy. The thought made his heart flutter in his chest.

“Did you have fun?”, he asked, teasingly. Adam turned to face him.

“Your family is a lot better than you make them sound”, he declared. Gansey scrunched his nose, turning the keys on the ignition.

“I don’t make them sound  _that_ bad, do I?”

“Well, not really. But they’re okay” Adam paused. “I’m sort of glad to have you for myself, though.”

They had left the garage, the old, big houses on the street now surrounding them. Gansey took a glance at Adam; he seemed at home in the Camaro, all worn out clothes and strange grace. 

“You are?”

“Yeah” Adam’s eyes were on the window, but his hand came to rest on Gansey’s knee, right where it’d been at breakfast. This time, it wasn’t suggestive or supposed to call attention to them. It was reassuring. It was a gesture someone would do to someone else they knew and liked. “Can’t wait to get back to Henrietta.”

Gansey couldn’t wait, either.

“And why’s that?”

Without having to look, he knew Adam was rolling his eyes.

“Are you really gonna make me say it?”

Gansey didn’t make him say it. Instead, he turned up the radio and talked to Adam like they’d done in the greenhouse, in his bedroom, in every other opportunity they had to be alone: like a friend, like a possible lover, like a stranger he would like to get to know better. In that moment, somehow Adam was all of these things to him at the same time, and it was odd and unusual, but then again so was Gansey, and so was Adam, and that was one of the things Gansey liked better about  _them._

Adam had insisted on being dropped off at the same coffee shop Gansey had picked him up. As soon as they entered the parking lot, Gansey said:

“Adam. Do you wanna go out with me, like, maybe get a coffee?”

Adam’s smile was brighter than the winter sun.

“You’re a huge cliché, you know that?”

But he followed Gansey outside the car, and accepted the hand that was offered to him without further comments.

As it turned out, Adam really had no grounds to judge Gansey for his stereotypical date choices, because as soon as they got to the door, he pulled Gansey by the collar of his sweater to give him a breathtaking kiss. Gansey let him, equally pleased and surprised, and chased his lips when he pulled back, but Adam just smiled at him, almost coy, and pointed upwards with a finger.

“Mistletoe”, he said. Gansey’s jaw dropped.

“And you say  _I_ am a cliché!”

“Well, what kind of Christmas boyfriend would I be if I didn’t kiss you under the mistletoe at least once?”

He looked really good when he was teasing Gansey like that. Really,  _really_ good.

“Do it twice”, Gansey said, a little breathless. “Just to be sure.”

Adam smirked knowingly, but he obliged. This time, they only broke apart because a young woman asked them, very politely, to move aside so she could reach the door. It was then that Gansey realized Adam’s hands were shaking with the cold and forced him to go inside and let Gansey buy him a coffee, because no, he would not let Adam pay for it, and no, for Christ’s sake, Adam, this wasn’t charity, and if it mattered so much to him, he could buy next time. 

He was happy because Adam conceded in the end, but even happier because he didn’t protest about the prospect of a next time.

The table they had sat at the last time was occupied, so they settled in a different one, closer to the window. Adam looked at Gansey over his latte, from under his long eyelashes.

“So”, he started, tone playful. “Now that I can’t be your fake Christmas boyfriend anymore, given that Christmas is over, what am I supposed to be?”

Gansey took a moment to consider the question. It had been a while since he’d been on an actual date, but he didn’t feel any of the pressure usually associated with first dates. Probably because Adam wasn’t just some random guy anymore.

“Well, for starters, you can start by not being my fake anything”, he replied. “I’m gonna pay you for your, er, service, of course, but after that, I’d like for us to get to know each other in a...I don’t know,  _normal_ way?”

Adam laughed.

“That sounds good to me, yeah.”

“Great” Gansey took a moment to ponder, rubbing his lower lip with his thumb. Finally, he looked back at Adam and smiled. “And then… What are you doing for New Year’s Eve?”

  
  


  
  


  
  


  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! I can't BELIEVE I'm finally through with it!!
> 
> Since I was already in rarepair hell, I wrote a New Year's Eve Ronan/Noah fic! So, if you wanna know what Adam and Gansey are doing for New Year's Eve, spoiler alert: they're making Ronan loose his goddamn mind.
> 
> If you managed to get this far, thank you, god bless and have a nice 2021 lol

**Author's Note:**

> In case you haven't noticed, the title of chapter 1 was taken from Taylor Swift's "'tis the damn season", because well. I couldn't help myself.  
> It feels good to write for the TRC fandom again lmao and I surely don't write enough Adansey so there's also that. Let me know if there are any mistakes/typos and I'll fix them right away.


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